


touch my skin to keep me whole

by louchanan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: American Football, Angst, Bottom Sebastian, Depressed Sebastian, Drinking to Cope, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pining, Protective Chris, Rape Recovery, Smut, Top Chris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 05:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8131534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louchanan/pseuds/louchanan
Summary: Chris doesn't know what to do when his favorite quarterback is replaced by some rookie. Sebastian doesn't know what to do when his problems don't disappear with the start of his new life.Falling in love was not a solution to either of these predicaments.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as a coping fic for just myself until it got way out of hand and became much longer than I expected. I also know fuckall about american football, you'll find out very soon when reading my poor attempts at depicting it. I didn't know when or if i was going to post this but tonight seems like The Night. 
> 
> And here is a [playlist](https://playmoss.com/en/brendan-reyes/playlist/touch-my-skin-to-keep-me-whole) of songs that I listened to while writing. I'll be adding more songs if I come across any that remind me of this fic. :)
> 
> Of course as always, read the tags and make sure this fic is something you can read without putting yourself in any danger. I try to tag the more prevalent topics I think can trigger people but proceed with caution. So be safe, I love you, and enjoy. 
> 
> Title is from Jeff Buckley - "Mojo Pin"

Chris remembers being 20 years old when he really began to pay attention to Tom Brady, the newly drafted quarterback of the New England Patriots. And when the Super Bowl was won that year and then 2003 and 2004, he’d begun to pay more attention. A lot more.

And now he’s nearly 29 and sat next to Jimmy Kimmel, being questioned about his, in Jimmy’s words, “almost sexual” admiration for Tom Brady. So clearly, it hasn’t been much of a secret. “I never met him. I never met him officially,” He admits, which is unbelievable to Jimmy and the audience. He doesn’t blame them for needing to suspend their imaginations to believe him. He’s a _really_ big fan.

 

He didn’t want a forced meeting. He wanted it to be natural. He figured he’d just bump into Tom during some party after he wins another Super Bowl. Maybe he’d buy Tom a drink and they’d hit it off.

 

But it’s the first of May that he finds out. The worst possible thing that he never saw coming happens.

 

“Chris, you need to calm down,” Scott’s voice comes through the phone. He sounds genuinely concerned yet manages to sound amused at Chris’s distress. “It’s just football.”

 

“But it makes no damn sense,” Chris continues to rant, pacing around the empty house. The rest of his family had only been gone for a few minutes before he found out that Tom Brady’s contract wasn’t going to be renewed. There was no one there to physically stop him from punching a hole in the wall. He was considering it. “Some new kid was drafted… For his spot! He wins us so many Super Bowls and he gets replaced? By some…,” he squints his eyes at the computer screen, “Sebastian Stan? It’s… Madness, Scott.”

 

He might cry. “Well, then he’s gotta be good, right?” Scott makes him consider. It’s possible he’s actually right.

 

“Maybe. But I still don’t like it,” He replies petulantly. Scott lets him go eventually when he realizes Chris isn’t going to get over it soon. Chris pockets his phone and to himself, he mutters, “I don’t like it,” before going to prepare lunch.

 

–

 

In the days that follow, it eats away at him so much that he takes to Twitter to voice his thoughts.

 

**@ChrisEvans: #BringBradyBack**

 

“Did you see what Chris Evans tweeted?” Margarita says as she hovers over him and kisses him awake from his nap. Sebastian tries not to flinch as her lips go down his neck while he’s still exhausted. She plops down on the bed beside him.

 

“What’d he tweet?” He mumbles sleepily as he rolls onto his back and wraps an arm around her. He nuzzles his face into her shoulder and waits.

 

“He tweeted ‘Bring Brady back,’” She says with a little giggle.

 

Sebastian has been expecting a little bit of disapproval, a little backlash over becoming the quarterback for the Patriots. It would’ve been stupid of him not to, knowing very well that they won 3 Super Bowls ever since Brady joined the team. It’s hard for fans to be okay with letting such a valuable player go. He understands it. He’s just not going to let all the negativity plague him.

 

So he smiles with his eyes shut as he drifts slightly back to sleep, slightly conscious.

 

When he properly comes to, Margarita is gone and he hears nothing but the birds chirping outside. He splays himself on his bed like a starfish and takes a deep breath as he observes the texture on the ceiling. Then he gets out of bed.

 

He makes a simple breakfast, eggs and a large sausage. As he cooks, he thinks about Chris Evans and tries to remember all of his movies. Sebastian can only recall watching Not Another Teen Movie, which confused him to no end, and some superhero movie where he was on fire. He finishes up his breakfast and then goes out to start practice.

 

He does drills by himself and with his soon-to-be-former teammates until sweat is dripping down his face and making his white shirt translucent. When he’s got a good ache throughout his body, he’s done.

 

Sebastian strips off his shirt and uses the areas still dry to wipe off the sweat collected on his face and neck. “Sebastian Stan! Gets drafted for the Patriots and doesn’t have to do a full practice anymore!” He hears someone shout cheekily. Sebastian smiles to himself as he grabs his duffel bag and heads to the lockers.

 

He quickly showers and dries off. As he opens his locker on the hunt for some clean clothing, a hand lands on his shoulder. He immediately tenses. “Hey, Stan. There are some people who want to ask you some questions,” Gary says from behind him.

 

“Okay. I’ll be right out, Coach,” Sebastian mumbles quickly.

 

“New England Patriots, huh?” Gary asks as he steps around so Sebastian can’t discreetly face anywhere but his locker and Coach Thompson’s face. He hadn’t told him. It was probably stupid of him to think he’d be able to keep it from him for more than a few days. “Did they give you a good contract?”

 

Sebastian looks down at the floor before meeting his eyes and nodding. He thinks that should be the end of it but a beat passes and Gary doesn’t make a move to leave. “I… I need to get dressed,” He says as he grabs his clothing and begins to walk to the rows of stalls. But Gary grabs him by the crook of his arm.

 

“Boston is a long way from here, Sebastian,” he says, almost like a warning. Sebastian just stares at him, doing his best not to falter. Gary eventually lets go and adds, “I’m real proud of you, you know. You’ve worked hard for this.”

 

Sebastian lets it go silent for a moment before he says, “Thank you, Coach,” and then he leaves to get dressed in private. In the stall, he waits and it takes a near minute before he listens to the sounds of Gary’s footsteps leaving the locker room. Sebastian presses his forehead against the stall door and takes deep breaths, wills his eyes not to sting in the corners.

 

–

 

Chris looks at the article on Sebastian Stan, a collage of three pictures of him plastered at the start of the story. He’s punting a ball in the Gillette Stadium, dressed in grey shorts and a tight fitting black shirt. In two of the pictures, his face is stern as he’s focused lining up the shot and kicking the ball. In the last one, he’s taken notice of the camera and laughing bashfully. Chris stares at his photo for a moment before continuing on to actually read the article, see what this kid is all about.

 

 _The new quarterback for the New England Patriots hails all the way from_ _Constanța, Romania, but was playing for the USC Trojans when he was drafted. With a 40-yard sprint of 4.3 seconds, Sebastian Stan, the replacement for Brady, seems promising in claiming more Super Bowl wins for the Patriots._

 

_Stan, 23, has just finished the move from California to Massachusetts and decided to visit the home stadium of the Patriots. We ran into him and wanted to ask if any of the pressures of replacing such a treasured player has gotten to him._

 

Chris stops reading there because now it’s truly real. Brady is out, Sebastian Stan is in.

 

His mother, Lisa, whips his butt with the hand towel she has when he decides to lie on the living room couch and mope. “What’s wrong?” She asks.

 

“We’re never winning another Super Bowl,” Chris responds monotonously.

 

“That’s not important. Come eat some lunch,” She replies before walking away, expecting Chris to follow her.

 

Chris sits up and just as he’s about to stand, his phone buzzes in his pocket with a call from his agent. He sighs before answering, knowing the conversation is going to exhaust him. Movie contracts are a scary thing to him.

 

Sebastian walks around the empty house, stepping slowly like he’s looking for creaky floorboards. His belongings, though very few, are still in boxes around his new living room. There are only 6 of them but he doesn’t want to start unboxing until everything finally slows down again.

 

It’s finally becoming a little too much too fast for Sebastian. It feels like he was in California, playing for USC only hours ago. And now he’s in Massachusetts, a state he’s never been in, in a lightly furnished house he was just _given_ , and he’s replacing one of the most famous football players in the country. It’s a lot.

 

The only thing that hasn’t changed is that he’s still looking over his shoulder, even in what’s supposed to be the comfort of his own home.

 

He steps into the bathroom to brush his teeth and watches himself in the mirror. He brings his fingers to his hairline and combs through his unruly hair. He doesn’t remember the last time he ever had it longer than this. He decides then that he’s going to grow it out.

 

He spits out the foam in his mouth and rinses away whatever is left. Then decides to go to the gym.

 

As he’s exercising, he tries to comfort himself in the thought that he’s only alone in Massachusetts for another week. Margarita will be on her way soon and his house will feel less empty. Of course, he’s only trying to convince himself that the emptiness hasn’t followed him. It’s the house, not himself.

 

–

 

Chris shuts the door behind his agent when he gets a phone call from someone outside of his family. He usually goes a month or two without any so it must be his lucky week that he’s gotten two. The caller this time is Robert Kraft. Chris hurries to answer the call and put his phone to his ear, greeting with a, “Hey, Rob!”

 

Robert prefaces his call with an apology over the draft, which Chris tries to play off as something unimportant though he’s still grieving and listening to Bon Iver when he gets the house to himself. Then he adds, “Why don’t you visit the stadium? Maybe even meet the kid? You’ll love him.”

 

It hits Chris then that he’s not the only Tom Brady fan in the world and not the only one strongly against his position being given to this Sebastian Stan. He’s probably being given a lot of shit for it. Chris should cut him some slack.

 

But then he remembers. _3 Super Bowls_.

 

He’ll meet the kid but he’ll have to earn his love, the same way Brady did. He puffs out a breath and says, “Sure, I’ll come by. Is Julian gonna be there?”

 

The second Sebastian opens the door, Margarita is pressing up against him. It isn’t the first time she’s done this but it’s the first time Sebastian grabs her wrists and tries to avoid her lips. “H-hi,” Sebastian says, feeling more awkward than he should around his girlfriend of three years.

 

“What’s the matter?” She asks with a giggle before trying again to kiss him.

 

“I’m just… not in the mood. Can we just talk, Marg?” She drops her hands and frowns for a moment before conjuring up a small smile. “I missed you, you know.”

 

“Of course you did,” she responds smugly before pressing her lips to his cheek. She takes his hand and drags him over to the couch. They both sit. Sebastian takes her hand and kisses her knuckles as she begins to tell him about her end of the week of them being apart. Sebastian tries to tell her about his but finds there’s really no point. His days have consisted of eating alone, going to the gym, and then going to sleep with the occasional Gillette Stadium visit in between.

 

“I was actually supposed to meet the rest of the guys today,” Sebastian says, looking at his watch and seeing that he promised Robert Kraft he’d be in at around 2 in the afternoon. He stands up from the couch and bends down to kiss Margarita chastely. “Sorry. I’ll be back and we can go out to eat dinner somewhere. Help yourself to… There’s actually nothing in the fridge right now.”

 

Margarita snorts and shakes her head, “Where would you be without me?”

 

Sebastian freezes, feels the blood inside of him stop circulating and grow cold. His wide eyes look over her face like he’s waiting for it to change but she’s still there, smiling teasingly at him. He brings his body to move and tries to shake it off. “Yeah,” he chuckles as genuinely as he can. “If you want to take my bank card and pick some things up, that’s fine. Sorry, again.”

 

He runs to his room where his duffel bag is already packed up. He breathes and hauls it onto his shoulder. He kisses Margarita on his way out and inhales so much air when he steps out, it hurts.

 

“You should’ve taken the chance to meet him all those other times,” Rob says ruefully. “I still have his number, you know? I could arrange a meeting for you two.”

 

Chris laughs, “No. No. I think I’ll just wait for our paths to cross.” Robert gives him a smile before nodding. “Is Sebastian Stan here?”

 

“No, he might be coming later to meet the rest of the time. I think Edelman is in the locker room.”

 

Sure enough, Julian is in the locker room. “Edelman!” Chris shouts, echoing through the practically empty room. Julian turns, slightly startled, but his face becomes bright with a smile when he takes in Chris.

 

“Evans!” He shouts back before crossing the distance between them and pulling Chris into a hug, slapping him on the back. “Been a few months since you last visited. Got any movies coming up?”

 

“Maybe, maybe,” Chris answers as they pull apart.

 

Julian smiles, “Alright. Well, let me get dressed and we can throw around a ball.”

 

Being in the locker room for the team he’s basically devoted his life to always has an edge of intimidation. He’s friends with many of the guys playing for the Patriots but he was a fan way before any of those friendships happened. He feels slightly out of place, slightly unworthy of being in this locker room where his heroes retreat to after a game or practice.

 

He hears footsteps and he’s expecting either Julian or Robert. But instead, he comes face to face with Sebastian Stan, the current bane of his existence.

 

It’s really unfortunate because he’s a good looking dude and the way his eyes light up upon seeing Chris almost makes him feel bad for deciding he didn’t like this guy. Almost. “No way,” he says, jaw slack. “You’re Chris Evans.”

 

“I am,” He replies with a nod.

 

Sebastian steps forward and extends his hand, “I’m Sebastian. I… I think you might’ve heard of me.”

 

Chris hesitates before shaking his hand, “I have.”

 

“Sorry about that. I-I… It was just the best thing for me to do,” Sebastian apologizes, running a shy hand through his hair. He stares at the floor before bringing his gaze back to Chris.

 

“Wasn’t the best thing for me though,” Chris replies, chuckling in hopes of not sounding too spiteful. “I’m a big Brady fan.”

 

“I know. My girlfriend told me about your tweet. Maybe… Maybe I’ll prove myself to you and you’ll be a big fan of me too,” Sebastian suggests jokingly with a shrug.

 

Chris squints at him and gently pushes him with a hand to the chest. Sebastian giggles smugly. “Win me a Super Bowl first, kid,” Chris says, rolling his eyes playfully.

 

Sebastian makes it home at 10. Somehow in the craziness of meeting Chris Evans and the rest of his new team, he was immersed in a feeling of euphoria and time disappeared. He felt that going home would rob him of that so even after the rest of them left, he stayed behind a little longer.

 

He steps inside and finds that his prediction was right. He walks through his house feeling like a ghost, hollow and transparent.

 

He climbs into bed beside Margarita. She turns and drapes an arm across his chest. Sebastian stares up at the ceiling, stares at the texture and then tries to shut his eyes.

 

He jolts awake, sees the chilling image of a locked bedroom door fade away until he’s left staring at the ceiling again.

 

He doesn’t know what it is that he needs anymore.

 

–

 

August comes by soon, and Sebastian doesn’t know if he’s had a single night of undisturbed sleep in the week leading up to it. But he powers through the exhaustion and irritation that fills him because it’s finally preseason.

 

He’s been on TV before, being a star player for USC and all, but the realization that he’s now in the NFL has his heart thrumming in his chest. He’s not going to let a lack of sleep take this from him.

 

The Patriots are up against the New Orleans Saints this week and the Atlanta Falcons next week.

 

He listens to the bustling of men around him in the locker room as he stares at his personal cubicle, marked by the sticker at the top with his name printed on it. Shelving to hold his belongings, shoes and shoulder pads and everything in between, and a rail the spans the entire width to hold his jerseys. He pushes some jerseys to the side to find the one he’ll be wearing today. The white lettering of his last name and his #17 against nautical blue. “Ready to go, Stan?” Stephen Neal asks, smacking his ass. Sebastian jumps and laughs.

 

At 6’4”, Neal makes Sebastian feel small with those 5 inches he has over him. And being a former wrestler, he’s just a lot bigger… Everywhere. Sebastian would be terrified to be tackled by him. “Ready to go,” Sebastian answers as he grabs his shoulder pads.

 

Chris leans forward, adjusting his cap and resting his arms on the railing. He just wants to see how the team is going to play without Brady. He’ll still proudly wear the title of a Patriots fan but he might just miss out on actually paying to see a game.

 

He’s being pessimistic about the new guys, Sebastian especially, but he can’t help it.

 

Chris’s attention is grabbed by the cheerleaders striding out of the tent tunnel and lining up on the Patriots’ sideline, which signals the entrance of the team.

 

A tremble of excitement always goes through Chris whenever he hears Ozzy Osbourne’s shout as Crazy Train starts to play and then Patriot Pat shoots out of the tunnel, followed by the rest of the team. Chris’s heart is still a little tender when he doesn’t see that glorious #12 jersey running with the rest of them.

 

The crowd roars as they sprint in between the lines of cheerleaders. Sebastian feels thrill in every vein as he takes off his helmet and looks around the filled stadium.

 

It’s hectic the entire time from their entrance to when three players from both teams get to the centerfield for the coin toss.

 

It’s all a blur between the kickoff and when Bill Belichick gives them their first play. Sebastian checks to make sure his helmet is secure before he gets into his position behind the center.

 

The yelling coming from all directions of the stadium is reduced to a soft hum. The prominent noise Sebastian hears is his own heavy breathing as he looks over the opponent and makes sure their chosen play will work before he opens his mouth to call. He starts with, “Set!”

 

The first few practices with his new team, he felt awkward being thrusted into this position of giving orders. He felt he needed to earn the spot and know his teammates before taking charge. Now he feels like he’s never played for any other team. It’s always been this one.

 

They play. It’s a pretty even match, always within a few points of each other. But the clock is running and they’re losing 21-24.

 

Sebastian doesn’t want to lose.

 

Chris bites at his knuckle as the teams at the line of scrimmage disperse momentarily before bodies collide and fall for what seems like the umpteenth time that day. He sees that jersey, #17, sprint to the side in a second with the ball in his hands. The next second he’s throwing to the wide receiver, Wes Welker, who’s running towards the end zone with two Saints on his tail. The distance between Stan and Welker is over 50 yards.

 

Chris’s entire body tightens as he sees the ball flying through the air. He watches in horror as it looks to fall too far from Welker, feels like the world is falling with it. If the ball is lost, they lose this game. But Welker’s hands snatch it up as he falls and rolls in the end zone. The crowd erupts.

 

Sebastian yells happily as the other guys on his team bump into each other, slamming shoulder pads and helmets together in celebration.

 

They win with 27 points.

 

They make their exit the same way they made their entrance, through the mouth of the Patriot tunnel. He holds his helmet against his side as he walks back. But like metals with opposite charges, Sebastian’s gaze finds the one and only Chris Evans in the first row of the audience. Sebastian smiles mischievously before running over, digging his toe into the wall to leap up and grab onto the railing in front of Chris. “So… What’d you think?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

 

Chris blushes having this much attention from a player and people around him are shocked to see the new quarterback so close, to see a quarterback scale a wall for him. “You did good, kid,” He manages, offering his hand for him to shake.

 

Sebastian shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Still gotta win you a Super Bowl,” he says with a salute before jumping back onto the field before anyone can tell him off for climbing the wall.

 

Chris feels his heart pounding in his burning ears as he watches Sebastian hurry into the tunnel.

 

Sebastian gets into bed after a hot shower and checks his phone, finding a text from his agent asking him how he’d feel about having a Twitter. But Sebastian feels his body sink into the bed as if it was seducing him to sleep so he thinks his response can wait until morning.

 

He rolls onto his side and pulls Margarita close, burying his face into her neck. Her skin smells sweet and warm. He sleeps better than he has in a while. He wakes up not completely dreading his 24th birthday.

 

–

 

Chris is in East London, using a dodgy streaming website to watch the second preseason game. The Patriots aren’t playing in their home stadium this week. No, they’re at the Georgia Stadium playing against the Atlanta Falcons. It’s evident from the start that Chris doesn’t have to bite at his nails.

 

The Patriots win 28-10. The Falcons never had a chance.

 

–

 

Sebastian has played football ever since he was 11 years old. It only took him 1 day to learn the proper way to throw a football. It only took him 1 year before he could play on his middle school’s football team. And it took him 1 decade since then to get into the NFL.

 

It also only took 1 point for him to lose the 3rd preseason game against the St. Louis Rams back in their home stadium.

 

He knows that preseason games aren’t as important as the games that actually affect their record but it still makes dread course through him seeing the scoreboard flicker and the number under the _Visitor_ grow larger.

 

Julian Edelman notices his distressed state and claps him on the back. “We’ll get it right next time, Seb,” he says sympathetically. Sebastian doesn’t say anything. He just waits for the queue for them to exit the field.

 

He doesn’t sleep well that night.

 

–

 

Maybe he should leave the NFL. It’s a thought that crosses his mind when they lose another game. They’ve just finished against the New York Giants in the New Meadowlands Stadium and lost 17-20.

 

He gets home late that night and Margarita is already asleep as she always is. But he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to talk about it even if she was awake. He takes a shower and gets into bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s becoming routine again.

 

In his dream, he’s still staring at the ceiling but it doesn’t match the one of his current home. It’s the same white ceiling covered in glow-in-the-dark stars from his childhood home in California. His chest feels heavy and there’s a voice in his ear that makes his bones feel frozen but his skin wet. It’s full body discomfort.

 

Some greater force finally shows him mercy and he wakes up, shaken. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s at his door and turning the lock on the knob. He locks it, unlocks it, and then locks it again. He foolishly does it like his nightmare is still a physical thing that he can keep out with a wall in between them, not something that lives in his head.

 

He might have to repeat locking his door again if he gets another nightmare. But he figures that’s better than when he was a kid, waking up to his mom screaming at him for being too old to be wetting the bed.

 

There’s 10 days until the official season starts. He needs to get better at dealing with losing because it’s likely the Patriots are going to lose a few more games. It’s just a reality he needs to work at accepting. But he never has been good at accepting failure and that’s what got him here in the first place.

 

–

 

“I really don’t think the stripes are very flattering,” Hayley Atwell comments on Chris’s ridiculously bright suit.

 

“Duly noted. Too bad I can’t do anything about it,” Chris says as he turns from the mirror with a small smile on his lips. “I wish I could say the red lipstick wasn’t but then…”

 

“It’d be a lie,” Hayley finishes for him confidently. She smiles and asks, “Are you missing your home yet?”

 

“Started missing it the second I landed, I think,” he says with a sigh. He’s been in the UK for a few weeks now and he misses the warm familiarity of home. “Feels like I’m not complete when I’m away.”

 

Hayley raises an eyebrow. “So… You’ve got a girl back home? A boy?” She asks casually. Chris likes that it’s easy with her even though they’ve only properly known each other for a month.

 

Chris smiles. “What about a football team?” He suggests. She laughs and he does too. The conversation is cut short because someone calls them back to film a scene that’s been of some difficulty. They just can’t seem to get it right. “I think it’s the red lipstick.”

 

“Shut your mouth,” Hayley says.

 

Sebastian does yoga in the living room, following some old instruction video that he’s pretty sure he stole from his mom. He’s stretching out his back when Margarita returns with a stack of mail in her hand. Sebastian has neglected their mailbox.

 

“Anything for me?” He calls out as she steps into the kitchen.

 

“A few things. I’ll leave them here for you to check later.”

 

As he’s lying on his back to do another pose, Margarita enters the living room and plops down on his solid chest. Sebastian’s eyes widen happily at her before rolling them over, hearing her squeal in surprise.

 

He noses at her neck before he gently bites her there and feels her squirm underneath him. He laughs and then peppers her face with kisses. He’s sure it’s been a few days since he last said it, which is already a few days too many, so he strokes the hair out of her face and softly reminds her, “I love you, you know.”

 

“I don’t know if I believe that,” she says with a smirk before lifting her head and kisses his lips, taking his bottom one between her teeth. “But I think I love you too.”

 

Sebastian giggles against her lips before bringing them back into another kiss.

 

Eventually, Margarita excuses herself to go shower and Sebastian then gives up on the yoga video. He shuts it off and stands up with his next order of business being to check his mail. So he walks to the kitchen where Margarita left it.

 

The envelopes and magazines sit on the black granite countertop and he swipes the envelopes up with one hand. He goes through them, seeing the printed names of official businesses and organizations on the envelopes. Sebastian is too bored to bother with them so he continues to moves them to the back of the stack until he finds something that’ll grab his interest.

 

One envelope taps into his anxiety. He reads over the sender address, written in black ink, and begs his eyes to stop seeing imaginary things. But the name _Gary Thompson_ is still there. He doesn’t know how this letter made it to him because he took all the careful measures of manually changing his address for everything he’s ever signed up for. He didn’t take a chance with a forwarding address.

 

He stays there, glaring at the curves of every letter. Margarita comes back to the living room, her hair put up in a towel and dressed in a blue camisole and black shorts. Very carefully, as to not give his current mental state away, Sebastian asks, “How did Gary Thompson get our address?”

 

Margarita switches on the large television before answering, “He asked me for it.”

 

Sebastian inhales sharply, glad she’s in the other room because he can feel himself unravelling. “So you just… Gave it to him?” Sebastian says, voice sounding just as defeated as he feels.

 

Margarita snorts from the living room, and it makes Sebastian feel something inside that’s beginning to feel like the accumulation of all things. Tingles in his shoulders and a dry throat. He’s cold again.

 

“It’s the nice thing to do, Sebastian. He just wants to keep in touch.” Her voice sounds distant. The letters on the envelope look like they’re dancing.

 

Sebastian blows up. He storms into the living room and cries out, “You had no right to do that!”

 

Margarita is stunned and annoyed, which leads to anger. “What the fuck, Sebastian?” She says, voice and expression bordering disgust.

 

“You had no fucking right, Marg,” he growls lowly, throwing the envelope onto the table. “I didn’t want him to know where we lived!”

 

“Well, you should’ve fucking told me that,” she huffs before standing up from the couch. She turns to retreat to the bedroom but stops and looks over at Sebastian. “What did he ever do to you besides give you everything?”

 

Sebastian’s clouded eyes widen. And luckily, she leaves before he breaks down. Weeks of built up crying finally released. He wipes every tear away until his cheeks feel rubbed raw. He wishes it could feel like more of a relief but it doesn’t.

 

Margarita thinks he’s mad at her. But he’s just so goddamn scared. He’s scared that he’ll never get better.

 

–

 

“Leaving already?” Hayley asks. The last time Chris checked, it was 9 PM.

 

“Yeah, but I’ll be back,” he says as he zips up his luggage. “Have that special someone to get back to.”

 

“The football team,” Hayley says.

 

“The football team,” Chris repeats in confirmation. He kisses her cheek before finally speeding down the hall.

 

–

 

The season starts off with the New England Patriots playing against the Cincinnati Bengals in the Gillette Stadium. Sebastian sits on the stool set in front of his cubicle as he unties the laces of his cleats to get his feet in them.

 

“I’ve never seen someone untie shows so… Sadly,” Sebastian looks up to see Chris Evans stood right in front of him, hair lighter and face clean-shaven. Sebastian just shrugs, which wasn’t a response Chris wanted. “Hey, man. Are you okay?”

 

Chris’s hand settles way too gentle on his shoulder considering that Sebastian’s wearing shoulder pads. He’s not going to break with these on but Chris must still think so. “I’m fine,” Sebastian answers, stretching a smile across his lips. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Most of them… About losing this game.”

 

He doesn’t add that he and his girlfriend have been tiptoeing around each other for days and that ghosts of his past are trying to become ghosts of his present.

 

“Well, you can’t blame yourself entirely if that happens,” Chris says. “Why do you think you have the rest of these bozos? You’re a team, Sebastian. I know… I know I’ve been giving you shit, being a rookie and replacing my hero,” he mimes wiping a tear, “But just go out there and… Fucking play. Forget about people waiting to see you fail, forget about the Super Bowl, forget about the consequences, just fucking play. There’s going to be more Super Bowls and I don’t care as long as you bring home one.”

 

Chris waves his hand around as his says it, eyes squinty with the size of his smile as he speaks. Sebastian feels some weight in his chest disappear. This might just be momentary ease but he’s grateful for every second of it. He stands up and pulls Chris into a hug. “Thanks, Chris,” he says.

 

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “I like you, kid, but you’re still a punk for replacing Brady.”

 

It’s the same as it is for every home game. Cheerleaders, Ozzy Osbourne, and Patriot Pat. But this time, Sebastian doesn’t feel like he’s made of lead. He feels light and hopeful.

 

The pep talk was a good one, Sebastian thinks, because by the 2nd quarter they’re ahead 10-0. Wes Welker is doing a lot for the team. Though Sebastian is doing quite a bit, Welker is always ready for the ball when Sebastian throws it and ready to run however many yards and dodge however many bodies to get it into the end zone.

 

The New England Patriots start off the season with a win, 38-24. Sebastian jumps into Wes’s arms and he spins the man around as they both yell in victory.

 

**@ChrisEvans: Let’s get it Patriots!!!**

 

The positive, cheerful energy is palpable in the locker room. There are hugs given all around. Sebastian feels good. He takes a seat at his cubicle and starts to untie his laces. “Happier lace untying. That’s good,” Chris comments smugly as he walks over to Sebastian. Sebastian chuckles and runs a hand through his feathery hair. The sweat soaking his hair allows it to stand up. “That’s actually not a bad look. Vertical hair.”

 

Sebastian giggles again. He looks up at Chris and bites his lip. “Hey, thanks. For the talk,” He says, voice small and sincere.

 

“You’re welcome. The first one’s free of charge,” Chris replies. “Second one might come at a cost.”

 

Sebastian smirks and licks the seam of his lips before asking, “What does it cost?”

 

“Maybe a drink or two.” Chris Evans wants to be his friend. Or he’s planning to slip some poison into one of his drinks to kill him so then the Patriots will have no other choice but to bring back Brady.

 

“Y-yeah,” Sebastian starts, throat going a little dry. “That sounds cool. I just need to… Shower.”

 

“I’ll wait here.”

 

Sebastian is slightly expecting Chris to be gone when he exits the shower and rounds the corner back into the hall of lockers. But he’s there, scrolling through his phone as he sits on the stool in front of Sebastian’s cubicle.

 

Sebastian pulls at his towel and uses it to towel dry his hair until it’s just damp. “Well, you’re not shy at all, Mr. Stan,” Chris says, clearing his throat. Sebastian notices that his phone screen has gotten closer to his face to block out everything else.

 

“Don’t really have much to be shy about,” Sebastian replies. Chris blows out air as Sebastian worms around him to get clothing out of his cubicle. Sebastian gets into some jeans and a soft blue shirt. He packs up his things in a dufflebag and then says, “Let’s go.”

 

They go to a bar with decent privacy policies for celebrity customers. It’s weird for Sebastian to think that he’s kind of famous now, enough to need a booth behind a velvet rope. But he takes into account that he’s also with Chris Evans.

 

“Now before we get to the drinking,” Chris starts as they slide into their booths, “I need to let you know that I will leave you here if you make fun of me for my drink choice. I like to enjoy myself, okay? So I like my sweet drinks, okay?”

 

Sebastian laughs, “Dude, no way. You do you.” He leans back and rests his hands on the back of his neck. “I might… I might even get some jello shots if you don’t judge me for it either.”

 

They get drink after drink. Sebastian feels so warm and everything is a little hazy. He can’t focus on much besides Chris in front of him. “I rolled right! Into him!” Sebastian snickers, gently chewing on his straw. “I’m scared… I’m scared I broke his camera. And his legs.”

 

Chris throws his head back and laughs with his hands crossed over his chest. That was one of the highlights of the game. Sebastian had relayed the play given to them by Belichick and it was wild to say the least. The two teams were walls that just collided as the ball was snapped and Sebastian ran like hell. His path to victory was intercepted and he rolled it to the sidelines. The only thing that stopped his rolling was a photographer and his large camera.

 

“You’re a punk,” Chris slurs fondly.

 

Sebastian raises his hands as if to plead guilty and then begins to shuffle out of his side of the booth. “Want another drink?” He asks.

 

“I still haven’t seen you get your jello shots,” Chris says in response. So Sebastian returns with several jello shots cradled in his arm. He puts them all on the table, creating an array of colors. Chris’s eyes sparkle at one of them, “That’s some pretty gay jello.”

 

He pokes at the shot holding the rainbow contents. Sebastian laughs and picks it up. “Well, you are what you drink,” he says languidly before sucking it up into his mouth. He swallows and Chris probably watches too closely at the way his adam’s apple bobs. Sebastian puts a finger to his lips, winking at Chris.

 

Chris laughs again. “Such a punk,” Chris repeats, more to himself than Sebastian.

 

–

 

Chris wakes up the next morning with his face pressed into the faux leather of his backseat. He blinks his burning eyes and breathes in sharply. His mouth tastes awful yet sugary and his head feels too heavy for his shoulders. He slowly, very slowly, sits up and runs a hand through his hair. He rests his elbow on the driver’s seat and finds Sebastian Stan curled up in the passenger one. Chris loses all residue of sleep seeing a football player balled up and looking so small in his car.

 

He looks around, glad to find that neither of them puked inside the vehicle and that he was aware enough to put up the flimsy car shade he has for privacy. The windows are also heavily tinted so no one has to know that they spent the night in the parking lot since it was a better idea than driving drunk. Way better.

 

Chris searches around the trunk of the car for a bottle of water. He drinks half, swishing it around in his mouth to mute the bitter taste, and saves the other half for Sebastian when he wakes. He checks his phone for the time and sees that it’s only 9 in the morning. But he doesn’t know if Sebastian has any plans and he’d hate to ruin them for him all because he didn’t wake him up.

 

So he climbs into the driver’s seat quietly and then reaches over, carefully wrapping his hand around Sebastian’s bicep and shaking him. Sebastian’s body tenses and then relaxes as he wakes up, eyelashes fluttering. “God,” he grumbles as he stretches out his limbs. “What time is it?”

 

Chris smiles and answers, “It’s only 8:55.” He nudges the bottle of water into Sebastian’s hand, who takes it and immediately drinks.

 

“I don’t even remember the last time I got drunk,” Sebastian says as he puts the bottle down and crosses his arms over his chest. He leans against the headrest, shuts his eyes, and quietly adds, “But that was fun. Don’t remember much of it but that was fun.”

 

“Am I driving you home now, Seb?” Chris asks. Sebastian pops open one eye and then nods. He doesn’t want to really go home but he would rather not bother Chris by becoming his shadow. They just became Official Friends. Chris starts up the car and pulls down the car shade. As he back out of the parking spot, he says, “So Romania, huh?”

 

Chris pulls into Sebastian’s driveway. It’s a really quaint house compared to the houses of most football players. And of course there’s a possibility that after his first season, Sebastian might move into a bigger house. But Chris doesn’t see him doing that. “Do you live here by yourself?” Chris asks.

 

“No. My girlfriend lives with me,” Sebastian says as he clicks the seat belt and lets it roll itself back up.

 

Chris tilts his head back in remembrance. “Right, right, girlfriend. I forgot about her,” He replies. Sebastian stares at him for a moment so Chris says, “What?”

 

“Do you want to come inside for a bit?”

 

Chris considers it but then decides against it. “Nah. I kept you from your girlfriend all night. I think you two deserve some… alone time,” He replies. “Don’t want to be a cockblock or anything like that.”

 

Sebastian snorts but then nods, “Alright. Well, thanks for the alcohol. Anytime you want to get me drunk again, you just let me know.” He pats Chris’s shoulder and then gets out of his car. Chris stays and waits until Sebastian’s gotten passed the door to put his car in reverse and leave.

 

Sebastian gets into the house and finds Margarita on the couch, painting her toes. She barely glances at him before going back to her task. “Hey, Marg,” he tries but nothing. He sighs and decides that the solitude in his guest room would be preferable to the solitude in the same room as the one he loves.

 

He and Margarita have had little fights and fall outs. They’ve stopped speaking to each other for days before but always managed to come back. But Sebastian can’t bring himself to fix things this time because he had no explanation he wants to give. He feels like he’s running through a hall that’s never ending and only becomes more and more narrow with every step he takes. He doesn’t want to lose her and he just hopes that they make it out of this one as unscathed as they can manage.

 

–

 

 _are you still in boston_ , Sebastian texts Chris before the game. He’s in New Jersey and the team is going up against the New York Jets this week. He stares at the blank, darkened screen of his phone and waits for it to light up with a message but there is none. So he figures Chris must be asleep on a plane, on his way back to the UK for filming. He wonders if he can convince Chris to send him a picture of his costume. It’d make him feel special to be one of the few people in the world to know what Chris Evans’s Captain America looks like before it comes out. Plus he’s heard Chris complain about one of the costumes and bets he looks as much of a fool as he says, and then some.

 

Sebastian puts his phone away and gears up.

 

–

 

Sebastian wakes up in the guest room feeling too tired. He remembers that he hasn’t even been asleep that long, too preoccupied waking up from nightmares or contemplating stapling his eyelids open so he wouldn’t have them. But proper sleep will have to wait because he has things to do today, important things that are essential to improving his performance as a football player.

 

It’s truth that what goes up must come down because Sebastian knows it firsthand. They had won the first game of the season and then lost the second yesterday. When he had come home last night, the house was silent and dark but he could see the door to the master bedroom was shut. He hadn’t slept in his own bed in a week but that had its pros. Being alone in the guest room allowed him the dignity of crying with no one being able to see it or hear it.

 

He presses his face into the pillow and throws his arm over to the nightstand, patting his hand around the wooden surface until he finds and clutches his phone. He rolls onto his side and with tired, squinted eyes, he checks his notifications. It should be alarming how fast he smiles at seeing Chris’s name among them. He has two messages from him.

 

_Back in the UK, bud. Guess you really needed that pep talk this time, huh?_

 

 _Guess I should head back to Boston since I’m clearly your good luck charm ;)_ Sebastian snorts. Remembering that they lost yesterday hurts a lot less when Chris is the one playfully giving him shit for it. He mentally makes a reminder to reply to his message after he takes a shower. He uses the cheap shampoo he and Margarita stocked in the guest shower. It smells of too strong mint but it tingles his scalp in a soothing manner so he doesn’t mind.

 

He wipes away the condensation on the mirror above the sink and combs through his wet hair with his fingers. Vertical hair.

 

When he steps out of the bathroom, he’s completely dry and his hair isn’t the same parted-at-the-side, feathery mess it usually is. It’s slicked up in the front and the sides are flat against his head. He finally looks a bit older than his actual age instead of 10 years younger than it. Other than that, it feels good to do something new.

 

Margarita still isn’t awake so he’s able to take his duffel bag and get picked up by Rob Gronkowski outside of his house without any awkward acknowledgments. He learns that Gronk likes to loudly listen to Beyoncé on his way to and at the gym and that he also knows some of the choreography to her dances. Their gym session is a joy all because Gronk is hilarious. Sebastian is glad he has such great guys on his team.

 

Chris finds himself going through the photo album on his phone between takes a lot. But he always finds himself on one specific photo. Sebastian Stan, the night they went to a bar. Sebastian has the side of his face pressed against the tabletop, hands rested at both sides of his head, and the camera managed to capture one side of his close-eyed, tipsy smile.

 

He frowns. He kind of wishes he didn’t make such a good friend the moment he had to start filming in another fucking continent. Hayley Atwell hip checks him as she walks by and cheekily asks, “Missing that football team?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

Sebastian is sat with the team in Bill Belichick’s theater room, watching some of the games the Buffalo Bills played last season. Gronk is sat beside him but unfortunately, Sebastian can’t afford to not study the opponent. He figured if he didn’t want the team to lose again, he needed to take every measurement to ensure that.

 

Then his phone vibrates in his pocket with Chris’s name and a picture of him full-belly laughing on the screen. And his whole plan of being the best quarterback turns to dust. “I’ve gotta… Take this,” he mumbles to Gronk before standing up and stepping out of the theater room. He answers the phone on his way to the restroom before it goes to voicemail. “Hey, man.”

 

“He- I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?” Chris asks.

 

Sebastian would’ve probably said yes to any other person but this is Chris. “No. What’s up?” Sebastian says, crossing his arms.

 

Chris hesitates and sighs, “I don’t know. I was kind of–”

 

“Missing me?” Sebastian offers, pouting his lips and raising his eyebrows though Chris can’t see his expression.

 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Chris says but it sounds fond and Sebastian laughs.

 

They’re probably on the phone for 30 minutes but it feels like 2 when they have to finally let each other go. Sebastian feels the coil in his chest that tightens every morning has gotten a little looser. He’s grateful he has friends that can do that for him.

 

Sebastian sneaks back into the theater room and returns to his seat next to Gronk.

 

He watches the rest of the games they play but he thinks this is all unnecessary suddenly. He has a good luck charm now.

 

–

 

They play the Buffalo Bills and win 38-30.

 

The next week they beat the Miami Dolphins, 41-14. Then the Baltimore Ravens then the Minnesota Vikings.

 

–

 

It’s Qualcomm where things get a little dicey. Everyone can tell that Sebastian’s vibe is off and he feels pathetic for it. His skin feels too tight and he can’t breathe. He doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to play well if he’s practically shaking with trepidation just as he’s doing his shoe laces.

 

His phone vibrates behind him in his cubicle for the day. He spins on the stool and picks it up without bothering to look at the caller ID, “Hello?”

 

“You okay, bud?” Chris says into the speaker. It’s in that moment that Sebastian considers that Chris isn’t human but some omniscient angel sent to protect him. But that fantasy dies as soon as it’s formed because he adds, “Julian says you’re not looking too hot.”

 

“Well, Julian can fuck off because I’m always hot,” Sebastian tries to joke but it falls a little flat because it doesn’t ease Chris’s concern over him. “I’m fine, just a little stressed.”

 

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

 

“Is it okay if I say ‘no?’” Sebastian asks stupidly. He hears Chris chuckle deeply.

 

“It’s okay,” Chris coos comfortingly. He would never try to force Sebastian into anything he didn’t want to do 100%. He would never do that to anyone. “Just wanted to try and help. I’ve seen you stressed out for a game before and… None of the guys have ever called me to help for that. So I just– Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think this is game stress.”

 

Sebastian doesn’t say anything. The only noise between them is Chris sighing. “Well whatever it is, Sebastian, it’ll be okay. And… And I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about it. You don’t have to be embarrassed or worried about anything,” Chris says soothingly. And laughing, he mentions, “And… I’m a big fucking baby. I cry a lot so don’t worry about that.”

 

Sebastian smiles, “Alright, man. Thanks.”

 

They run out onto the stadium field, greeted by a dichotomy of cheers and booing. San Diego sunsets are so beautiful, Sebastian doesn’t want to look anywhere but up. The beautiful, warm colors keep his nerves down enough to focus on the game. But he’s still a little shaky, not completely present.

 

They win 23-20.

 

Everyone shows Sebastian a little more appreciation after the game to hopefully improve his mood. He takes everything with a smile that drops a second after. He hides his face in his cubicle the best he can as he undresses.

 

He’s momentarily glad that the rest of their games are East.

 

He has texts from his mom who’s just found out he’s Westbound and asking him to come visit. He deletes the messages and continues getting ready to leave California as soon as he can.

 

–

 

Chris sits down next to Sebastian on the couch in his living room. He thinks he can hear Scott in the backyard with their mother, laughing. The entire house looks like it’s glowing.

 

He lays himself on the sofa with his head in Sebastian’s lap. Sebastian’s hair is longer, to his shoulders actually, which is a new look but it works for him. He just stares at Chris with eyes that softly caress every single one of his features before he starts leaning in. Chris feels his body go pliant, not tense like he would have expected, as Sebastian’s lips finally meet his.

 

Chris opens his eyes to his much duller, Sebastian-less trailer. He groans as he takes in his surroundings, his surprisingly disappointing reality. The thought creeps on him then.

 

Maybe he has a crush on Sebastian Stan, his friend, the guy that replaced Brady. He feels like he’s betraying a fundamental part of himself.

 

Before he can properly dive into processing the likeliness and unlikeliness of this being an actual crush, there’s someone rapping against his trailer door. That’s his call back onto the set so he gets up and steps out. Chris Evans’s problems will have to wait for Steve Rogers's problems, which is hilariously also similar to a crush on his best friend.

 

Sebastian is a little tired of feeling so distant from Margarita but he doesn’t know how to go about things. So he texts someone who might.

 

 _hey text me when ur not busy being a mediocre actor_ , he sends to Chris.

 

 _Guess I should text you right away since I’m only busy being an INCREDIBLE actor. What’s up?_ is the response. Sebastian stares at the text, bites his lip in thought. Does he just tell Chris that he’s having a hard time communicating with his girlfriend? Does he let him know that he’s kind of a shitty boyfriend? Before he can figure out what to say, Chris texts again. _Is there something wrong, pal? Call me if you need._

 

Sebastian feels undeserving of a friend as great as Chris. He hits the call button and listens to his phone ring for two seconds before Chris answers with a soft, “Hey, Seb.”

 

“Hey.”

 

“So what’s up? What’s wrong?”

 

“No, first tell me about your day so you don’t think I’m using you for the free therapy,” Sebastian says. He hears Chris chuckled through the line and he smiles. “How was your day?”

 

“Interesting, to say the least,” He really hasn’t gotten his mind off of that dream. “Just had some scenes to shoot, fucked those up quite a bit today. Got to kiss a girl.”

 

“Oh, nice. Was she cute?”

 

“Yeah,” Chris answers. He tries to bite his tongue but he continues anyway, “But I’ve been thinking about kissing cuter.”

 

Sebastian lights up at this and says, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

 

“It’s not important. There’s probably no point on dwelling. She has a… Boyfriend,” Chris sighs. “Don’t know if I’ll ever get over it unless I fucking… die or find someone else.”

 

Sebastian laughs. “Well, there’s a chance, not to sound gross or anything, that they could break up in the future. And if the stars align or whatever, you two might end up together,” he says. “Now for the greatest segue ever,” he sighs, “I need help fixing things with my girlfriend.”

 

“Oh shit. What’d you do?” The way he says it allows Sebastian not to get defensive. He laughs instead, shutting his eyes and heel of his palm to his forehead as he tries to think.

 

“God, I feel so fucking stupid. But… I kind of got emotional and blew up on her. Then she said some things, and it’s all gone to shit basically. We’re not talking, we’re not sleeping in the same bed,” he explains. He takes a deep breath. “And I want to apologize but I don’t know… I don’t want to explain myself. I don’t feel ready to.”

 

Chris hears the hint of desperation in his voice and he frowns. Since the game against the Bengals, he’d sort of figured that Sebastian was a very complex and sensitive person. He did briefly wonder how much of Sebastian was actually okay and how much of him was just an act.

 

He puffs out air before saying, “You should apologize. And just tell her what you told me. Tell her you're sorry and if she wants to know why you burst, tell her you’re not ready. You just have to be as honest as you can with her, Seb. She’ll appreciate it. She’ll appreciate anything because I’m sure she’s feeling… The exact way you do.”

 

Sebastian lets his words settle in his brain before sighing and mumbling, “Okay.”

 

When the phone call ends, Chris feels an emotional soreness in his chest. He thinks it might be muted jealousy and yearning.

 

He thinks about the hilarity of it all. It’s like the world is playing a practical joke on him with how Sebastian told him the target of his affections could end her relationship, not knowing that when Chris was speaking he was speaking about Sebastian, and then going into how he needed help to maintain his own. It’s all so hilarious.

 

He presses his hands into his eyes and stresses out a  laugh. It’s so like him to want someone he can’t have.

 

–

 

Chris wakes up in his hotel room and feels an awful urge to cuddle into something, someone warm.

 

He’s hugged Sebastian before but he tries to imagine what he’d be like to bring their bodies together, to feel his weight. He thinks he would like being trapped underneath Sebastian’s body and to have their hearts beat against each other. He would like that a lot. The thought is enough to make him warm.

 

He picks up his phone from where it lays on the other side of the bed and he checks his messages. He has one from Sebastian.

 

 _thanks for the advice, i think we’re going to be okay_ and Chris wishes he could lie and say that his body didn’t go cold.

 

–

 

Chris gets another break from the movie two weeks after he realized he had an inappropriate crush on the very taken Sebastian Stan. An intelligent man would probably avoid seeing a person that they can’t have to prevent more attachment. But Chris isn’t intelligent when it comes to the people that remind him of the sun.

 

The Patriots are playing the Cleveland Browns at Gillette Stadium today. Rob Kraft convinces him to watch the game from the seats placed on the sidelines, just far away enough so a certain Romanian man won’t roll into him the way he did that photographer awhile ago. So he sits there with a cup of coffee, chatting to Robert and sometimes one of the coaches who joins the conversation for a few minutes before going back to work.

 

Chris spots the occasional photographer getting his and Rob’s picture from the corner of his eye but they’re at a distance so it doesn’t bother him. He stops mid sentence when the team’s entrance is announced and the start of Crazy Train comes on. He’s been a Patriots fan since he was born but he doesn’t think he’ll tire of the way the team runs out and the crowds go wild behind him. It’s electric.

 

He catches Sebastian running in his #17 jersey and he’s pretty sure he’s screaming like a fool behind his faceguard. Chris doesn’t realize that he’s smiling until his cheeks tug at his jaw and ache. He tries to hide his smile, which he’s having a hard time getting rid of, behind the rim of his coffee cup.

 

He forgot to mention to Sebastian that he was coming to see the game. And by “forgot,” he means he just wanted to surprise him.

 

Sebastian halfheartedly drops his helmet in his cubicle and it comes rolling out onto the floor. The guys on the team all spare him a look but don’t want to bother him. He’s upset. He had felt so good, had woken up today feeling like he was going to win again now that everything felt like it was in its place. But the Cleveland Browns smoked them, 34-14.

 

He slows down his routine. And as he’s coming out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, his teammates all pass him with a slap on his back. Soon enough, he’s alone in the locker room and yanking a white cotton shirt off of a hanger. He stills as the silence overwhelms him and tears start pouring from his eyes. He presses his face into the soft cotton as he shallowly gasps, tears being soaked into the fabric.

 

His whole body sags and shakes with distress because he feels that nothing ever goes right. He can never make everything okay. The frustration fills him and he feels like it’s going to burst from the seams of his body. He just wants to cut himself open to get it over with.

 

He feels fingertips drag along his shoulder before gently taking hold and pulling him into an embrace. “Sebastian,” Chris murmurs with a concerned frown on his face. Sebastian’s arms are trapped in between their chests as Chris wraps both of his around him. His face is pressed into Chris’s neck as he continues to cry and Chris’s hand travels up into his wet hair, slowly carding his fingers through it.

 

Sebastian can feel the beat of his pulse from the point on his neck and he uses it as something to focus on. The tears gradually stop coming and he finally makes the move to break the hug. Chris lets him go easily but he places his hands on Sebastian’s shoulders, eyes meeting bloodshot ones. “Tell me what’s going on, Seb, so I can help you,” he says quietly but the distress in his voice is clear. Sebastian feels like shit for being the one to bring Chris’s mood down. Chris walks him over and sits him down on the bench in the center of the locker room. He takes the spot beside him and tries again, “Tell me what’s going on.”

 

Sebastian smiles sadly as one more tear manages to escape. He wipes it away quickly. “I… I just don’t like losing. I was taught not to like losing and that the worst thing I could do was lose a game,” Sebastian says. “And I know… I know you said it isn’t all my fault but I can’t help but feel like it is.”

 

He looks over and Chris is watching him with sad eyes. “Seb,” he coos apologetically, reaching over and stroking his clean skin. Chris wants to do anything to make it better but he’s scared of accidentally crossing a line or coming too close to something not really platonic.

 

“I associate losing with… bad things,” Sebastian adds and it’s the closest he’s ever gotten to telling someone. He cups his hand around his mouth as the crying starts again, humiliation, pain, and confusion churning inside of him.

 

Chris brings Sebastian back into his arms. He feels his bones and thinks about how they can handle being tackled to the ground by men who weigh more than he does. But right now, they shake under the weight of his demons and Chris is scared of holding him too tight.

 

“Do you want to get dressed, Seb?” He asks as he takes the shirt from his hands carefully. He stands up and walks over to his cubicle, discarding the shirt and picking out some cleaner clothing. “Do you wanna get into this?”

 

Sebastian looks up at him, the expression on his face making his features appear younger and timid. He eyes the clothes and nods. So Chris dresses him, hoping that Sebastian doesn’t feel insulted or infantilized by it. Chris simply cares so much.

 

He gets Sebastian into his shirt last and straightens it out on his shoulders. “Do you want me to take you home?” He gets no response, just Sebastian’s little hiccups between them. “Sebastian, it’s okay if you don’t want to go home. Just tell me where you _do_ want to go.”

 

“I… I just don’t like when Margarita sees me like this.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it.”

 

“I-I know. I just don’t like it,” He says as he rubs at his right eye. “Can… Can I just be at yours until I calm down? It won’t be too long.”

 

“Of course, Sebastian.”

 

Chris pulls out his keys to unlock the front door of the house. “We kind of have to tiptoe… Just until we make it to my room,” Chris whispers as he turns the doorknob and pushes it open. Sebastian instinctively grabs onto the crook of his elbow when they step inside and follows him around the furniture until they make it to the bottom of the stairs. The quietly climb up them and make it into Chris’s room without waking anyone.

 

Sebastian hears the door click behind him and he takes in Chris’s bedroom. The light is dim but he can see the navy blue king bed in the center of the bed, the dark wooden desk in one corner, and the upright piano in the opposite corner. Chris catches him observing it and asks, “What?”

 

“I’m trying to decide if I think you can actually play piano or only have it to impress the people you bring into your room,” Sebastian replies, hoping that his voice comes off teasing enough. Chris smiles at him before walking over to the piano and putting up the fallboard. Sebastian hurries over and grabs his hand before he touches a key. “Isn’t it… Isn’t it late to be playing?”

 

Chris chuckles and nods his head, “Probably. But… I may or may not have this room soundproofed.”

 

“What?” Sebastian says incredulously, mouth stretched into a smile and eyes bright again. How he should always be.

 

“Well,” Chris raises one of his eyebrows, “sometimes the piano does impress.” And then he’s playing, his fingers lazily pressing into the keys and creating beautiful music. Chris focuses on getting every note right and he looks over at Sebastian, who’s watching him closely and with a, possibly imagined, sparkle in his eye. Chris plays one note out of place, cursing under his breath before fixing it. It makes Sebastian laugh though so it feels like a win. Chris eventually stops.

 

“Céline Dion?”

 

“I know some Adele too,” Chris replies, and Sebastian laughs again. Chris thinks this is dangerous to have Sebastian here. But in his moment of darkness, he couldn’t have left Sebastian to go through it alone. Every fiber in his being rejects that thought. “If you don’t wanna leave yet… I could put on a movie?”

 

Sebastian bites his lip before nodding, the edges of his lips curling up into a smile.

 

He warily climbs onto the bed while Chris dives right onto it instead. He finds out that Chris’s recently watched movies are all Disney or Pixar movies. “I don’t think I’ve seen Toy Story 3,” Sebastian mentions as he glances at the list. Somehow Chris doesn’t see how wrong watching that movie can go until they’re reaching the end and he hears Sebastian begin to gasp in air beside him.

 

“Shit,” he mutters to himself before closing the space between them. “It’s okay, buddy.”

 

“I’m… I’m a fucking grown man crying over an animated movie,” Sebastian growls to himself. Chris cracks a smile at this.

 

“Well, it’s been an emotional night,” he reminds him. “And I’m older than you, kid, and I cried the first time I watched it. C’mon.” He thumbs away Sebastian’s tears until he’s calmed down. “All good?”

 

“Yeah. Chris?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

–

 

The Patriots don’t lose a single game after the loss to the Cleveland Browns, resulting in a record of 14-2. Sebastian wishes for a moment he could go back in time to the games they lost and let himself know that they still make it to the playoffs as the top seed in the AFC.

 

He practically kisses the life out of Margarita when he gets home after they beat the Miami Dolphins. Their record is good, a major improvement from last year’s 10-6. They’re going to the Super Bowl, no doubt. Chris tells him so.

 

“I’m going to win you a Super Bowl, pal,” Sebastian reminds him smugly as he sits on his living room couch.

 

“Yeah. Well, don’t get too cocky,” Chris says, nearly as smug. “Brady did win us 3.”

 

“Okay. Give me time. I’ll win you 4.”

 

“I’m going to hold you up to that,” Chris says. “If you don’t deliver, I’ll… I’ll do something.”

 

Sebastian snorts into the speaker at his weak attempt at threatening him. He adjusts himself on the couch and sighs happily. Every aspect of his life has him feeling so sated. The world feels like it isn’t going to crack open and swallow him. He feels safe. “Hey, if you want… If you’re not busy, you can come over. If you want,” Sebastian offers shyly. He and Chris are great friends now but he can’t help but feel stupid when he tries to plan a hangout. He’s always waiting for Chris to decline, having something more important to do. “Margarita is out with friends and I have no plans today.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll come by. Do you want me to bring anything?”

 

Then Chris is on his way to Sebastian’s house with a case of Mike’s Hard Lemonade because, again, he likes to enjoy drinking. He knocks on his front door and hears Sebastian call from behind it before it’s opened. At the same time, they both say, “Hey,” and blush.

 

“Come in, come in,” Sebastian says as he steps aside to let him through. “I made some sandwiches if you’re hungry.”

 

They plant themselves on the living room couch with their drinks and sandwiches on the coffee table in front of them. Sebastian had rented the movie Inception and hadn’t gotten around to watching it with Margarita, too busy with being a football player and celebrating the new year. Now is a good time for it.

 

Sebastian makes a lot of quiet commentary, voice monotone yet funny enough to make Chris laugh like an idiot. Chris throws his head back, face scrunched in happiness, when Sebastian imitates a slowed down scene pretending to be unconscious with his arms slowly flying through the air. Sebastian stops and smiles at the bubbly Chris beside him before throwing himself over his lap, resting his upper body on him.

 

Chris feels like this is a touch too much, for him at least. He’s too infatuated with this boy and it makes his fingers twitch with how much he wants to just drag them along his bottom lip. He wonders if Sebastian is like this with any of his other friends, and the smallest possibility of that is enough to make Chris’s stomach go heavy with jealousy.

 

The only person Chris never feels jealous of comes through the door, keys jingling and purse on her shoulder. Margarita makes him feel out of place, makes him want to be invisible. There’s never a hint of anger when he sees her kiss someone he can’t have. He just feels his heart ache with how much he would like to be in her shoes, wonders if she knows how lucky she is every time she sees him, hopes she takes good care of Sebastian.

 

She’s beautiful and kind. Chris can see why Sebastian loves her, much to his selfish dismay.

 

Sebastian removes himself from Chris’s lap, taking his heat with him, and smiles, “Hey, Marg.”

 

“Hi, baby. Hey, Chris.” He awkwardly waves at Margarita. She crosses the room to Sebastian and they share a chaste kiss. “Are you two watching a movie? Is this that one you wanted to watch, Sebastian?”

 

Chris feels like he hears the missing _with me_ in that question and goes a little tense. He’s paranoid whenever he’s with the two of them, like Sebastian would never find out about his crush but Margarita will. “Yeah. You can watch it with us if you want, darling,” Sebastian replies. Chris hates that he’s never heard Sebastian say darling before and that now that’s all he wants to hear him say. To Chris, specifically.

 

He wants Sebastian Stan to call him darling. Goddamn.

 

He feels guilty for the relief he feels when Margarita declines, “No. I feel like I’ll just be pestering you two with questions since I missed the beginning.”

 

Sebastian shrugs and pouts at her. She goes to her shared bedroom, leaving Chris and Sebastian alone again. Chris is a little disappointed but not entirely surprised that Sebastian doesn’t resituate himself on his lap.

 

They continue drinking their fruity drinks, cheeks becoming warm and tinted pink. Chris notices that Sebastian’s eyelids resemble glossy petals more than ever right now. He’s so beautiful, and Chris is staring.

 

Sebastian slams his hands on the coffee table, startling Chris out of his trance. “Chris,” he says. “You’ve been drinking the original kind this whole time?”

 

He turns to look back at Chris. “Leave me alone. That’s my flavor of choice,” Chris defends himself, not able to fight off the smile on his lips.

 

“But!” Sebastian slams his hands on the table again. “It’s all about the strawberry flavor.”

 

Chris snorts, long and loud until he’s laughing silently and clapping his hands. Sebastian’s eyes squinch shut as he begins laughing too. Chris leans forward and slaps him on the shoulder, “Are we tipsy off Mike’s?”

 

Sebastian keeps laughing, “I think so.” They slowly calm down, wiping their eyes and holding their aching stomachs. He takes a deep breath, “Try the strawberry.”

 

He grabs his half empty bottle of the aforementioned drink and brings it towards Chris. He places his hand underneath Chris’s chin, slightly cupping his jaw, and carefully puts the bottle opening to his bottom lip. Chris feels out of body, like he’s completely under Sebastian’s control as he pours the strawberry lemonade into his mouth. He’d do anything Sebastian would ask.

 

Sebastian ends up pouring too much and some dribbles down his chin. He gasps and Chris quickly swallows whatever he can and goes to catch the falling drink with his hand to keep it from hitting his shirt. There’s only a few drops. This has Sebastian, who’s a delightfully giggly drunk, laughing again. He grabs the front of Chris’s shirt and presses his forehead into the junction of his neck and shoulder. He’s also frustratingly tactile.

 

Sebastian mindlessly noses at his throat before pulling back. “I don’t even remember what this movie is about,” he says, sounding like a thought he doesn’t realize he’s having out loud. Chris bursts out laughing. “Stop laughing at me, I’m in the Super Bowl.”

 

Chris laughs more before toppling over and wrapping his arms around Sebastian’s body. “Love you, pal,” he says more calmly.

 

“Yeah, well, I love you more so blow me, Christopher,” he says.

 

Chris wishes. For both things but mostly the first part.

 

–

 

It’s the evening of January 15 when there’s a quick succession of knocks at Chris’s front door. For some reason, he just knows it’s for him so he keeps his mom and sisters from answering it. He opens the door to a distressed Sebastian, “Sorry, sorry. I know I should’ve called or texted or sent a fucking messenger bird but–but–”

 

“Hey, hey,” Chris says softly as he brings his hands to Sebastian’s trembling shoulders. He pulls him into a hug and holds him tight. “It’s okay.”

 

“I’m sorry if I interrupted. I know you live with your family, and I–”

 

“Sebastian,” Chris cuts him off, voice stern so Sebastian takes it as a command. “It’s okay. Do you want to be in the living room with us or do you want me to join you upstairs?”

 

“Upstairs… If that’s not too much to ask.”

 

“Never.”

 

Sebastian lies down on Chris’s bed and stares at the ceiling. It isn’t covered in stars, doesn’t have a specific texture. It’s just blank, white, and smooth.

 

Chris sits at the piano stool and observes him for a moment before asking, “How are you feeling?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Sebastian,” Chris sighs. He stands up from the bench and sits on the bed beside him. “You don’t have to hide from me. You said… You said you don’t like Margarita seeing you like this. And to be honest, that freaked me the fuck out because I care about you and I think you need to let some of this out. So please, just vent to me. You can trust me.”

 

Chris watches his bottom lip tremble as tears form in his eyes again. Sebastian sits up and places his face in his hands as he begins sobbing. Chris already adores him for being so raw and willing to fall apart in front of him. But he wants to know that Sebastian is actually getting more than just the physical stuff out. The tears escape but he’s not sure the thoughts do.

 

Sebastian wipes his tears and then puts his hands in his lap. Chris looks at him but Sebastian keeps his eyes trained forward. “I just… I feel like I can’t run away,” he feels like a child saying it because he has no other way to explain it. He has monsters under his bed. In his bed. “I thought moving away would make it better, which is why I chose…”

 

He trails off, quiet. But Chris speaks up, “Why you chose to join the Patriots.”

 

Sebastian nods, choking up. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want to replace Tom… I wasn’t even a fan… I just had to get away,” he says. He feels like he’s being swallowed up by his own guilt in that moment. He didn’t deserve to be with the New England Patriots. He still doesn’t.

 

Sebastian is expecting him to be angry about this revelation. But that’s just not in his nature. He can’t be angry at Sebastian, especially when he’s vulnerable and in need of something that Chris can’t give him. “That’s okay, Seb,” he reaches over and rubs circles into his back. He chuckles, “You play football really well and that’s all that matters.”

 

“I feel so selfish though.”

 

“You’re allowed to be selfish.” He wants to voice his thoughts that he’s definitely allowed if something is making him want to run away that much. But he doesn’t. “Wh-what set this off… Today?” He tries, gently squeezing his shoulder.

 

Sebastian knows that he doesn’t have to answer. Chris would never force it out of him. But he wipes away his tears again before mumbling, “Another letter.” He lies back down and doesn’t say anymore.

 

Chris stretches over to check his expression and finds it soft, peaceful. His eyes are shut and his lips are parted just enough to let little sleepy breaths out. Chris smiles tenderly at him. He doesn’t want to leave him alone so he carefully lies down beside him with an appropriate distance between them, just a few inches but it could just the same be miles. He looks over, sees his dark hair spilled on the white pillows, sees his uncovered and baby-haired nape. He wants to slot himself behind Sebastian and press his nose into those soft hairs, figure out his scent there. He wants to kiss down his shoulder and find all his secret birthmarks and love each one individually. He wants Sebastian more than he wants air in his lungs.

 

He feels the twitch in his fingers again and claws his bedsheets to keep them from touching Sebastian without his awareness.

 

His body feels the warmth radiating from Sebastian and he feels like he’s sinking into velvet and silk. He always expected falling asleep beside him to feel something like this. He wants this feeling for the rest of his life. But he knows he won’t get it. It’s a truth he wishes he didn’t have to accept. So he just enjoys it now, tries to remember as much as he can put it on repeat in his mind. Relive it forever.

 

Chris wakes and props himself up on his elbows, bleary eyes focusing in on the clock by his nightstand. They’ve only been napping for an hour. He rubs his sleepy eyes and then shakes Sebastian from his sleep. “Wake up, Seb,” he says, voice rough. Sebastian’s eyes open slowly and meet Chris’s, clouded with confusion for a second. He takes in his surroundings and remembers where he is.

 

“Good morning,” he greets as he adjusts the way he lies on his shoulder. “What time is it?”

 

“It’s 7 o’clock,” Chris answers. “I think we just missed dinner. So if you’re hungry, we can go down. You might have to meet my family though.”

 

“Haven’t even taken me on a date yet,” Sebastian says, whacking his bicep with the back of his bicep. “Don’t you think this is a little too fast?”

 

 _I want to get down on one knee right now. “_ Need to wine and dine you before I sixty-nine you?” Chris replies.

 

He says it with such casualty that Sebastian is finally the one taken by surprise. His face is lit up in joyful shock as he says, “Oh my god.”

 

Chris thinks he loves him.

 

He brings a hand to Sebastian’s face, cupping his jaw, before he realizes what he’s doing. He plays it off by squeezing his cheek and then hopping off the bed, “Let’s go, punk.”

 

Chris thinks he loves Sebastian. He thinks his mother and sisters love him too. The three of them sit at the dinner table in the chairs closest to Sebastian, Chris is left to observe from his seat a little farther away. They all dote on him and Sebastian bashfully glows in all the positive attention. Chris wants him so badly.

 

He knows that he can feel what he feels but not act on it. He’s so trapped in the emotions he has for Sebastian that he forgets, just forgets that there is no ending that involves him being with Sebastian. It’s foolish and naive to pretend but it’s so easy to when Sebastian is the way he is and when he’s looking gorgeous while sleeping in his bed and being so lovely for his family at the dinner table. It’s so easy to pretend Sebastian is his.

 

They retreat back into Chris’s room after dinner, and Chris’s family doesn’t want to let Sebastian go but they do reluctantly. “They’re awesome,” Sebastian says after Chris’s asks if dinner was too much. “They actually… Invited me to come back tomorrow.”

 

They must’ve done it while Chris was putting his dish in the sink. “Wh- you have a game tomorrow. You don’t have to come. Don’t worry about it, Seb,” he reassures him but Sebastian’s already shaking his head and smiling. “It’s the divisional playoffs, kid. It’s no joke.”

 

He playfully shoves his chest and Sebastian giggles as he snatches up his hand. “I know. But… I like it here,” he says, squinting one eye. “I might come super late but… I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”

 

“Are you going to bring Margarita?” Chris asks, hoping his question isn’t completely transparent. Sebastian shakes his head again. “You should,” Chris adds for good measure.

 

“She’s usually out or asleep when I get home from a game,” Sebastian says.

 

“Does she… Does she go to any of your games?”

 

“No,” He answers. He feels embarrassed admitting it. “I don’t really invite her to them, to be honest.”

 

Chris doesn’t really find that to be a proper excuse. Regardless, she should be there every once in awhile to show her support. “Why not?” Chris asks with a frown.

 

Sebastian walks over to the piano as he says, “I don’t really think she cares for football so I don’t want to waste her time.” He plays a key and softly says, “Play me a song,” before Chris can ask anymore.

 

Chris drops it then but it still makes his skin feel too tight. He walks over to the piano and sits on the bench. Sebastian hesitates but takes the space beside him and watches his fingers ghost over the keys, still unsure about what to play.

 

But then he starts, the notes blending together. It takes a second to process but Sebastian recognizes the song. He shudders, shakily exhaling. He thinks he told Chris that Wish You Were Here was his favorite Pink Floyd song a few weeks ago. He hadn’t expected him to remember something he mentioned once in the middle of a larger conversation.

 

His chest feels so warm as the song continues. He manages to feel floaty yet so present here, beside Chris. He looks over at him, scans the slope of his nose, the hair dusted on his cheeks and jaw, his long eyelashes.

 

Sebastian feels overwhelmed suddenly with how entranced he is by his best friend.

 

His attraction to men is one he’s repressed for years. Or, his attraction to them changed. He stopped caring for the physical traits, wanted something deeper. He needed someone to be emotionally invested in him, to care for him, before he found himself attracted to them. He never really got that with the men he met so he decided that maybe the attraction he had for the first parts of his life was just curiosity. Then he met Margarita and never really looked back.

 

But now he’s here with Chris and it feels so right to be with him. The only wrong is the space between them. He leans over and presses his face into Chris’s shoulder, careful not to disturb his playing hands. He takes a long breath, inhaling the scent of Chris’s skin. The musky spice of his neck, a new one of Sebastian’s favorite smells. Chris stiffens under it but keeps going.

 

Sebastian quickly remembers himself, opening his eyes and pulling away from the contact. He wants to be closer but he has someone else. He loves Margarita. He can’t be doing things like this while thinking the thoughts he’s having right now.

 

Chris finishes the song and sighs. “Why didn’t you play that the first time I came around?” Sebastian asks.

 

“I was still learning it. Wasn’t ready to show you,” Chris answers, confirming Sebastian’s hopeful prediction that it was all for him.

 

Sebastian doesn’t remember the last time he felt this… special. It seems unfair to say because Margarita can’t play piano or anything like that but still. Sebastian is incredibly flustered that Chris did this for him, that he remembered and went onto learning it. For him.

 

He thinks about how Chris held his face with one hand right after he woke up. He stared at Sebastian with a look that was hard to read before smiling and moving on. If he was to try that now, Sebastian wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning in and learning the taste of Chris’s mouth. He would get addicted too. He knows he would.

 

Before he can do or say anything stupid, he’s saved by the buzz of his phone. His car has arrived to pick him up. “I have to go,” he says, standing up.

 

It’s so abrupt that Chris’s stomach falls and blood drains from his face. The song he learned, admitted to learning for him, was too much. It crossed the line and now he’s scared Sebastian off. He stands up as well. “I’ll… I’ll walk you outside,” Chris offers before following Sebastian out of the room.

 

His mother and sisters are lounging on the deck in the backyard when they make it downstairs. Sebastian is adjusting the sleeves of his jacket as he says, “Tell them I said bye and that dinner was great.” Chris nods. There’s a little emptiness that Sebastian hasn’t said anything directed to him. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

 

“Alright,” Chris says as he opens the door for him. “Go win, kid.”

 

Sebastian smiles softly before turning to leave the house. He makes it two steps before turning around and burying himself in Chris’s chest. Chris feels his body fill with ease as Sebastian stimulates all his senses. He hasn’t made Sebastian run. “Thank you,” he says. What for, he doesn’t specify.

 

Chris feels like he thanks him too much for the things any person should do for someone as beautiful as Sebastian Stan. “My pleasure,” he replies.

 

–

 

The next morning, Sebastian has his stuff ready to go for the game. He zips up his bag and takes the first step towards the front door. But he’s sidetracked by a thought.

 

Margarita is in the bathroom, doing her normal morning routine that Sebastian still hasn’t lost fascination in. He loves the way she throws her hair over her shoulder before misting her neck with sweet perfume and how she relaxes her face to put on mascara. He loves her.

 

He leans against the door frame, tries to feel confident but still comes up a little short as he asks, “Do you want to come watch the game?” She is taken aback since he’s been playing for months now and has never said anything. But she smiles, that goofy excited smile that makes Sebastian want to pull her close and kiss her face. “It doesn’t start for a few hours so you don’t have to leave with me right now. But I was just wondering…”

 

“No, yeah,” she nods eagerly. “I’m going to go out right now but I think I can make it.”

 

Sebastian grins. “Alright.”

 

In order for the Patriots to make it to the conference championship, they have to beat the New York Jets today. Sebastian tries not to live in complete comfort that they entered the AFC playoffs as a #6 seed, and even though the Jets beat them before, he’s still confident it’ll be an easy win this time.

 

The moments before game time, Sebastian wonders if Margarita has made it to the Gillette Stadium yet. There’s no way to find out until after the game.

 

Bill Belichick calls for a quick huddle before the game, gives a few words to up the morale and then sends them on their way. This is it. Sebastian puts on his helmet as they walk out, heading for the tunnel. He tries to make conversation with Patriot Pat but it’s a little hard with the thickness of the head. So Sebastian apologizes with a smile before they’re all running out to Crazy Train.

 

It comes close but New England steals the win with a score of 28-21. All that’s left is the championship against the other winner of the divisional playoffs and then they’re off to the Super Bowl.

 

There’s cheering in the locker room the moment the team starts pouring in. It’s loud and crazy but Sebastian isn’t overwhelmed by any of it because his attention is focused on the beautiful girl standing by his cubicle. He smiles and worms his way through the crowd. “Hey, you,” he coos as he places his hands on her hips and kisses her.

 

“Jesus, Sebastian. You’re so sweaty,” she says with a giggle. He smiles before kissing up her jaw. “You played great. Thanks… Thanks for inviting me.”

 

“Thank you for coming,” Sebastian says. He kisses her a few more times before he hears some of his teammates, mostly Gronk, whooping smugly about it. He flips the bird in that general direction. “Are you going home after this?”

 

“Maybe. Are you?”

 

“No. I’m going to Chris’s house. His mom really likes me,” he says with a chuckle. Margarita’s face brightens and she kisses Sebastian again.

 

“Hopefully not more than me though,” She says. “Alright. I think I’m going to go before the layers are peeled off.”

 

Sebastian snorts, remembering that this is a locker room and once enough people are gone, the team will start stripping down. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you later if you’re still awake,” he kisses her chastely.

 

“Okay. Have a good time,” she holds his cheek and smiles at him. “Stay the night if you’re too tired.”

 

He smiles and nods. They part with one more kiss and exchanging I love you’s. He watches her exit the locker room and then turns to his cubicle to start undressing. But he feels someone’s presence and looks over his shoulder to find Chris stood behind him.

 

He spins on his heels and takes him in. He looks the way he always does, beautiful. But his beard looks neatly trimmed and the shirt he’s wearing makes Sebastian’s vision go rosy. Everyone else in the room disappears.

 

The nautical blue jersey hugs his broad shoulders and slimmer hips so nicely. The large #17 brings attention to his firm chest and just knowing that his last name is on the back, spread over his shoulder blades, makes Sebastian want to curl around him. “Thought it was time I got a new jersey since my Brady one is a little… Outdated,” Chris says, breaking the silence between them.

 

Sebastian presses his tongue to the tip of his canine and smiles. “That number really suits you,” he comments, making Chris snort as he removes the distance between them. Sebastian hooks an arm over Chris’s shoulder as his arms wrap around Sebastian’s waist.

 

“Good playing out there,” Chris says before Sebastian pulls away to continue getting undressed. “You got us to the championship.”

 

Sebastian smiles to himself as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Still have one more game before the Super Bowl so don’t bow to me yet,” He says. He works on taking off his shoulder pads.

 

“That’s never happening, kid,” Chris says. He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head in reconsideration, “Unless… You were to give me a specific ring.”

 

Sebastian grabs his towel and turns around. “Marriage now, Chris? I met your family last night,” he says, playing dumb.

 

“You’re a punk.”

 

–

 

In the week before the AFC championship game, Sebastian does a lot of juggling between time with Margarita and time with Chris. Externally, it’s easy because Marg has made some friends and likes to go out with them, and Chris hasn’t been very busy recently so Sebastian would like to take advantage before the press junket for his superhero movie starts and they’ll be apart for weeks maybe. But internally, he’s in conflict with himself because he doesn’t know if he’s spending a little too much time with Chris.

 

He tells himself that Margarita has her friends and she’s fine. But Sebastian was also “fine” without her going to his games until she finally did and he was more than fine. He was over the moon.

 

He doesn’t want to neglect her is all. He spends two days with her to really reinforce that. They go out to shop for clothing or groceries but other than that, they stay inside and cuddle on the couch.

 

The temperature has been dropping recently but Sebastian is still a little shocked when the front door of Chris’s house opens to reveal himself, nose pink and eyes miserable and hands holding a mug of tea. Chris has a cold.

 

“Nice fucking going,” Sebastian says, yanking Chris into a hug.

 

Chris softly gasps, “Sebastian! I’ll get you sick.” His voice is so nasally and cute, Sebastian smiles widely. “If you lose the championship because I got you sick, I’m gonna have to change my name and move away and be a fan of… the fucking Buffalo Bills.”

 

“Your life would be so hard,” Sebastian sarcastically mumbles into his shoulder before pulling away from the hug. “Your blood red, blue, and silver?”

 

Chris shrugs a shoulder, and with a bashful smile says, “You know it,” before waving Sebastian inside.

 

They settle in the living room with Chris’s mother. She sits on a green arm chair in the corner of the room as she folds her laundry, Sebastian and Chris sit on the living room couch. “You should’ve come after your game. Chris just randomly came down with a cold,” Lisa says to Sebastian.

 

Chris and Sebastian both blush at the misuse of “randomly” because it wasn’t random. With alcohol in their blood, they just weren’t thinking about the consequences of Chris skinny dipping in the pool during a night in the middle of fucking January. Sebastian doesn’t remember much besides laughing at Chris screaming the second he came up from the water and his cold, wet skin.

 

“I’ll be fine. I’m keeping some distance,” Sebastian replies. Lisa raises her eyebrow at how they’re sitting, Chris’s legs rested on Sebastian’s lap, and yeah. It’s probably not looking like a convincing attempt at all. Chris smiles as he reaches over to the side table next the the couch and grabs his mug. He drinks until there’s nothing left and looks into the mug to find out where it all went. “Out of tea?”

 

Chris nods and doesn’t expect Sebastian to carefully remove his legs to stand up, taking his mug and heading for the kitchen. It’s ridiculous that Chris watches him go in complete awe. At least, that’s what he’s getting from the look his mom is giving him. He stands up, following Sebastian’s steps, to avoid it.

 

Sebastian is biting his thumb as he’s staring at the kettle over flame when he enters. He looks over at Chris and removes his thumb from his teeth. Chris gives him a smile and god, Sebastian is drowning. He wants to feel that smile against his own, sick Chris or not.

 

“You didn’t have to actually make me some more tea.”

 

Sebastian shrugs, “I wanted to.” He looks over at Chris with another thought on his tongue. _You always do things for me. You always take care of me._ But he swallows it. He doesn’t directly acknowledge the things Chris does for him after they pass and he thanks him. “I… Do you want to take this to go and come with me to pick up my suit?”

 

Chris is already reaching for a travel mug.

 

Sebastian drives Chris’s car because according to Chris, they will die if he’s behind the wheel while he’s sick. He’ll sneeze and pull the steering wheel. It’s so funny that Sebastian doesn’t mind driving.

 

Sniffling and coughing into his arm, Chris waits for Sebastian outside of his dressing room. He only got a glimpse of the suit through the garment bag so he has no idea what to expect when Sebastian exits. But he knows that it’ll look gorgeous anyway.

 

It takes a few minutes but soon, Sebastian is stepping out in a light grey suit paired with a creamy tie and white buttoned shirt. It’s a religious experience for Chris because Sebastian actually looks like an angel.

 

“Does this look douchey?” Sebastian asks as he does a little spin. “It needs to look a little douchey.”

 

Chris breaks into a grin and nods. “You look great, Seb,” he says, “And you always look a little douchey no matter what you wear. So don’t worry.”

 

Chris stands up and enters Sebastian’s space. His hands come into his view and Sebastian trembles, thinking he’s going to hold his face. He won’t be able to stop himself. But Chris’s hands go to the collar of his shirt and straightens it out.

 

Sebastian swallows the lump in his throat and asks, “Are you coming?”

 

Chris meets his eyes as he goes on to tighten his tie just a little more. “Uh. I could go. But I usually just watch home games,” he says as he brings his hands back to his sides, his fingertips lightly trailing over Sebastian’s clothed chest.

 

“You should come. I’d… I’d like you there,” he isn’t afraid to say it. Chris is really special to him and he needs to show him.

 

“Okay. I’ll go,” Chris says. “But you’re paying for my hotel for springing this up on me at the last second.”

 

They discuss their favorite Justin Timberlake song on their way back to Chris’s house. It kind of becomes a debate over which song is truly a classic but Chris is smiling. He’s glad it’s so easy with Sebastian. “Cry Me a River?” Sebastian narrows his eyes at him and shakes his head.

 

“What?”

 

“That’s not a fun song, Christopher,” he says. “But then again, you are pretty dramatic.”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Chris laughs. “I have my own personal reasons for liking that song, okay? It’s my favorite song so respect that or get out of my car.”

 

“Okay. What are your reasons then?”

 

Chris looks over at him, wondering if he actually wants him to answer that. Sebastian gives him a daring glance and Chris puffs out air. It’s kind of embarrassing for Chris to explain but he remembers that this is Sebastian. He trusts him.

 

“It makes me feel nostalgic about being a heartbroken kid... in a way,” he starts. He watches the side of Sebastian’s face, how he’s focused on the road but still listening closely. “I listened to this song a lot after one of my girlfriends cheated on me.”

 

“What the fuck,” Sebastian hisses to himself.

 

“Yeah,” Chris agrees. “She wanted to break up with me for a while because I had, or still have, bad anxiety, and I guess it took a toll on her because I didn’t really like going to parties and I got pretty reserved at times. It got worse after Not Another… Yeah. But she was afraid to break up with me because she didn’t want to trigger an anxiety attack. It really didn’t make sense because finding out she was hooking up with another dude destroyed me. It sucked. But JT was there for me and I got through. Sometimes I like to listen to it and remember that I’ve gone through _so_ many days that felt like the end of the world. And they weren’t.”

 

“I’m glad you’re fine,” Sebastian says. “But I’m going to help you make better memories with better Timberlake songs. SexyBack is gonna be the first one.”

 

Chris bursts out laughing at the inappropriate thoughts in his head, thoughts Sebastian purposely made him think. He clears his throat, giggles still coming, as he says, “I’ll bring the whip.”

 

“We’re going to make one more quick stop and then we’ll go back,” Sebastian says after a few minutes.

 

Chris groans a little, “I just wanna get home, Seb. Take a nap. My throat is killing me.”

 

Sebastian smiles as he pulls into a little plaza and replies with, “I know. But don’t worry. It’ll take 5 minutes. You don’t even have to get out.” Chris doesn’t argue but he’s in disbelief when Sebastian parks them in front of a Starbucks. He didn’t even think Sebastian liked Starbucks, sees him being the kind who grinds his own coffee beans and uses a French press at home. “I’ll be right back.”

 

Chris watches him run inside of the little coffee shop like it was a timed mission. He looks a little strange, rushing into a Starbucks like his life depended on it. And like he said, 5 minutes later he’s coming out with a single cup in his hand. Chris huffs, a little offended that he’d only get something for himself. But before Chris can say anything about it when he gets back into the car, the cup is being placed into his hands. It’s warm through the cardboard sleeve.

 

“Wh-”

 

“I got you more tea.” Chris feels his heart glow in his chest.

 

–

 

**@ChrisEvans: Take us to the Super Bowl, Patriots!!!**

 

**@Steelers555:@ChrisEvans they have no chance against Pittsburgh**

 

**@ChrisEvans: @Steelers555 Where have you been all season, pal?**

 

Chris is practically Sebastian’s puppy whenever they’re at a stadium. Any time he’s not in his seat to watch the game, he’s in the locker room following Sebastian because that’s where he feels he’s supposed to be. Sometimes Julian will pull him away from Sebastian to catch up but Chris will return back to his side right after.

 

He’s feeling a lot better, which allows him to enjoy the day a lot more than he would have with itchy eyes, a runny nose, and a throat that feels like sandpaper. It boosts Sebastian’s mood too.

 

Chris is sat on the stool placed in front of Sebastian’s cubicle as he readies himself for the big game. The energy in the Heinz Field locker room is immense. Everyone is just ready to get out and win this game. This is the game that counts so Chris brings his gaze back to Sebastian, who has yet to get on his shoulder pads and shirt. He wraps his hand around his fingers to get his attention and holds even after Sebastian directs his eyes to him. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

 

Sebastian’s expression slowly spreads into a grin. “I’m feeling good,” he answers, working his hand around Chris’s to get a proper hold. He squeezes. “I’ve got my good luck charm.”

 

“Sebastian,” Chris breathes. “You’re going to make me cry, kid.”

 

“Tears come later,” Sebastian says monotonously before breaking into another smile and then letting go of Chris’s hand. He’d keep holding if there was a way to get dressed without it being a hindrance. Chris gets to his feet and helps Sebastian with the straps on the front of his shoulder pads. It’s weirdly intimate, they both notice. Nervous chuckles escape their lips before Chris takes a step back. Sebastian gives him a curious look before speaking, “Do you consider yourself a fan of me yet, Chris?” He’s referencing their first conversation together, Chris realizes.

 

“Nope. Still hate you and I’m still waiting for Brady to come back,” Chris deadpans as he unzips his sweater. “It’s getting a bit hot in here.”

 

Sebastian eyes the #17 on his chest again and grins manically.

 

Bill Belichick rounds everyone up to give another pep talk. “You made it here as a top seed. Whether we win or lose out there today, I want all of you to know that I’m proud of your hard work this season. It really showed. And if it shows today, you know what that means,” He says, voice slow and calm.

 

Gronkowski cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “Super Bowl!” And everyone follows it with cheers.

 

Sebastian gets his helmet on and before he leaves for the tunnel, he walks back over to Chris. “This is it,” he says.

 

“This is it,” Chris repeats. He grabs Sebastian’s faceguard and playfully tugs on it. “Thought you were being a punk, telling me you’d win us a Super–”

 

“Win _you_ a Super Bowl,” Sebastian corrects him, making Chris’s heart flutter. Chris is so crazy about him.

 

“–Win _me_ a Super Bowl,” he says. “But here we are. The title game.”

 

Sebastian smiles warmly at him. He’s glad that every moment like this, there has been something to keep him from kissing Chris. Right now, it’s his faceguard and one of his teammates shouting for him. “I have to go,” he says. He turns to go but backtracks and hugs Chris tightly. “Gotta squeeze you of all your luck.” Chris laughs.

 

The nerves are kept at bay until they run out on the field, the roaring and booing of the crowds coalesce into a cloud of energy that Sebastian feels speeding up the chemical reactions in his brain. He thinks that if they win this, they’re given the chance to win the Super Bowl. He thinks about receiving the ostentatious victory ring and letting Chris roll it around between his fingers, letting him observe the diamonds. Putting it on him. He thinks Chris would get nervous just to touch the ring. Sebastian wants to see that. He’s ready to burn off some of his agitation to play.

 

He looks up into the yellow stands, searches for sunglasses and a cap in the first row though the weather is cold and cloudy. Chris is already there, smiling and raising his cup of beer in salute at him. His sweater is still unzipped, enduring the low temperature just to display Sebastian’s jersey number proudly.

 

The Patriots have a rough start. By the second half, the Steelers have accumulated 24 points and the Patriots only have 13. But there’s still time to catch up. Chris crosses his fingers and prays that they catch up because they made it so far. He’d hate for Sebastian to feel like his efforts were for naught if they lose this one.

 

In the third quarter, the disparity of points lessens because the Patriots score 7. Chris feels a surge of pride because their chances are looking much better, and it’s because Sebastian is thinking more critically.

 

Chris is anxious for a win, could argue that he’s probably more anxious about it than Sebastian. The only thing that briefly assuages his tension is the reaction of the photographers and spectators on the field. Ever since the first time Sebastian rolled and knocked that photographer off his ass, he’s become a little famous for it because it started becoming a bit of a frequent habit. So now whenever he nears the sidelines even slightly, everyone is already backing away as a precaution. He can’t wait for the game to end so he can give Sebastian shit about it.

 

Sebastian gets into his position behind their center, Dan Koppen. He takes a deep breath before announcing the play.

 

The ball is snapped to him. He takes five quick steps back and searches for Wes Welker further down the field. They make eye contact for a second and Sebastian throws the ball. He watches the ball make it into Welker’s hands before he’s face down on the turf.

 

His gloved hands grip the grass as he lifts his upper body from the ground, a groan coming from his throat. He looks up and finds Edelman extending a hand. He takes it and gets himself to his feet, a sharp pain coming from his right knee as he applies weight to it. “Fuck,” he gripes, reaching down to prod gently at his knee cap.

 

“You alright, Stan?” Julian asks as Sebastian hisses when he finds the problem area.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Sebastian says before limping his way over to the line of scrimmage.

 

Chris notices the limp and squeezes the armrests of his seat. He guesses they were too lucky the rest of the season because up until now, Sebastian was borderline bulletproof. He got sore and received some bruising at times but he hasn’t had a sprain or a break or anything of that level. The limp is making him nervous.

 

The ball is snapped again and Sebastian throws it to Welker. All Welker has to do is dive inside the end zone which is only six yards away.

 

Chris yells as Welker makes it to the end zone and slams the ball into the turf in victory. They’re going to the Super Bowl.

 

“You’re going to the Super Bowl!” Chris shouts as soon as he enters the locker room and his eyes land on Sebastian. Sebastian smiles at him from where he sits in front of his locker. He’s stripped down to just his grass-stained white pants. He bends his knee and a small grimace taints his smile. “How are you feeling, pal?”

 

Sebastian shrugs, “Got knocked down and landed weird. Hurts a little.”

 

“Think you’re gonna be able to shower without slipping?” Chris asks.

 

“Are you trying to get into the shower with me, Christopher?” Sebastian smirks. Chris blushes realizing how it could’ve been taken like that. “I’ll… I’ll just shower when we get to the hotel.”

 

“Okay. We’ll put a chair in there if we have to,” Chris snorts before stepping behind Sebastian to go through his duffel bag. Sebastian turns around, curious to find out what Chris is doing. Chris turns to him with blue athletic tape in between his fingers.

 

Sebastian gets down to his boxer briefs and Chris kneels in front of him. He applies tape under the patella, glancing up at Sebastian’s face to check for any signs of pain. He puts down two more pieces of tape to help support his knee, his fingers trailing up Sebastian’s bare thigh to stick it all down.

 

In Chris’s ideal world, he’d kiss Sebastian’s thigh and make him blush so sweetly. He’d go on to caress his warm face and kiss his pink lips, and he wouldn’t stop kissing him.

 

Chris uses the keycard to open their room door. He swings it open and drops Sebastian’s duffel bag on the floor. Sebastian limps inside behind him. “You should probably get off that leg,” Chris says.

 

“Yeah, but I’m going to shower first.”

 

“Don’t die in there.”

 

“I’ll try not to. Thanks.”

 

Chris settles down on his bed with a book he still hasn’t finished when the rush of the shower head finally starts. He considers laying down on the side closest to the bathroom just incase he hears the loud smack of Sebastian’s body on tile. Sebastian should be fine though. He shouldn’t worry about it.

 

He moves to the center.

 

Sebastian soaks his hair, feels the ends of it fall further down his neck, and reaches for his body wash but eyes Chris’s. He looks through the clear glass over at the door and contemplates using his. Chris wouldn’t have to know; Sebastian is only going to take a small amount. And if he somehow managed to find out, he wouldn’t be mad. He’s torn because it still isn’t his. But then he thinks about Chris’s smell, the warm spice at his neck that never leaves, and how he wants it all around him.

 

Sebastian is selfish when it comes to Chris. He takes it and squeezes out the product, creating a lather in between his hands before running it all over his body. The scent Sebastian associates with safety and care intensifies. Mixed with the steam of the hot water, it becomes sensual to him and he’s too far gone to do something to stop it, like pulling the shower handle and making the water icy.

 

He runs his hands over his soapy skin to wash it all away, slowly dancing his hands lower down his body. He cards his fingers through his pubic hair before firmly wrapping his hand around the hilt of his semi-hard cock. He bites his bottom lip as he gives it a slow stroke, watching the skin stretch back from the head.

 

He’s careful on his legs as he steps forward and presses his forehead onto the cool tile, hot water running down his back as he continues to pump his cock until it’s completely hard. He lets go and sees it pressed up against the small swell of his stomach. He drags a finger up his shaft and uses it to make his dick horizontal before removing it, watching it slap back against his stomach.

 

He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip as he gets a fist around himself again, face scrunching up in pleasure as he strokes and flicks his wrist. He presses his thumb into the leaking slit and can’t hold back the little gasp that escapes his throat. But it’s quiet enough that he doesn’t think Chris heard it.

 

He brings his free hand to his face, running it over his tight feeling skin before sticking two fingers into his mouth and sucking on them to keep himself silent.

 

Sebastian feels like he’s taking a suspiciously long time showering and that Chris will somehow catch on to what he’s doing. He feels a little ripple of heat go through his body at the thought of Chris knowing. He pictures Chris coming into the bathroom and discovering Sebastian shamelessly fucking his fist, Chris’s hand replacing his own and finishing him off, coming all over Chris’s hand.

 

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and places that hand next to his other one. He works his dick fast and hot before he’s spilling wildly all over his hands. He groans low in his throat and stares up at the ceiling as he trembles with full body satisfaction at the release.

 

He’s wrapping his towel around his waist when the sober realization of what he’s done hits him. He freezes as guilt overwhelms him. Chris is his best friend. He has Margarita.

 

He exits the bathroom feeling dirtier than he had prior to his shower.

 

Chris spares a second from reading to glance over at him. “How’s your knee feeling?” He asks.

 

“Still kind of hurts,” Sebastian answers as he goes over to his luggage but it’s on the ground and getting to his knees doesn’t sound fun with the way his knee is still aching. Chris seems to notice his dilemma and shoots up from his bed to his luggage. “Thanks.”

 

“If it hurts a lot, you can just stay in bed for a bit. We don’t have to leave tomorrow morning. Or even tomorrow at all if you’re not up for it,” Chris suggests kindly.

 

Sebastian would take it. But he knows that if he’s left in a room with Chris for more than a few hours, he’ll end up doing something else he’ll regret. “It’s only an hour flight. I think it’ll be fine tomorrow morning,” he says.

 

–

 

Sebastian sits at a table with Margarita and Coach Thompson. He’s sat on one end and they sit on the other, glaring at him. They’re angry at him, he can feel it. “How could you?” Margarita spits at him.

 

He can’t speak. He tries but nothing comes out. Immediate frustration stings his throat and tears rest at the brim of his eyes. Coach Thompson speaks this time, “Close your eyes. It’ll all go away.”

 

He wants to say _no, no,_ you _go away._ He wants to tell him to leave him alone and go to hell. But he can’t get anything out.

 

Coach gets to his feet and begins to close the distance between them. _Don’t come near me. Stop. Stop!_

 

The dim room goes white and he’s staring at his ceiling of stars. Then he hears his mom yelling at him. _I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to._ But he realizes she’s not screaming at him for wetting the bed. She’s screaming at him to wake up.

 

He takes a long, ragged breath as he comes to and sits up in bed. It’s still dark but the moonlight shines almost blue into their hotel room. There is no Margarita or Gary. His mom isn’t yelling. He only has Chris bent over him, watching him with worry etched on his face as it rains torrents outside. “Sebastian,” he breathes out in relief as he caresses his face. “God, fuck. Are you okay?”

 

Sebastian’s breathing rapidly but still feels like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. His eyes burn as tears just spring forward and roll down his face. “He was there,” Sebastian says before a sob wracks his entire body.

 

Chris brings him into his arms and feels him bury his face into his chest. “Who… Who was there? Who is he?” He asks, hoping to conceal the heartbreak in his voice. He combs through Sebastian’s soft, clean hair with his blunt nails to comfort him.

 

Sebastian cries harder into his chest, gripping his shirt. Chris has taken notice of the way Sebastian hits rock bottom regularly and it’s because of something he’s not telling Chris, a secret. It’s a hard topic for him, and it crushes Chris even more when he thinks that this skeleton in his closet has never had to fear being forgotten. This skeleton snuck out of the closet and replaced Sebastian’s bones with its own, became a part of him that lived under his skin. Every move he made, Sebastian was reminded these bones were not his own. But it was a secret he had to hide, so he pretended he didn’t ache with every step and covered his pain with a smile to give his happiness verisimilitude. Hid that he was so very not fine.

 

It hurts him and he’s kept it to himself. Chris’s breath comes out shakily as his eyes glass over. He’s seen Sebastian in tears many times but there’s something different about this time. He revealed his cause of misery has a face and Chris wants to find out which one it is so he knows which one to break. “Sebastian,” he croaks. “Sebastian, look at me.”

 

He has to cup his face and pull him away from his chest to make their eyes meet. “I-I need you to do me a favor, okay? I need you to breathe in as much air as you can in 4 seconds, hold it for 8 seconds, a-and breathe out for 8 seconds. Can you do that?” Sebastian shakes his head, still breathing and gasping shallowly. “Can you try?”

 

He attempts it and it’s a miserable failure the first few times because he can’t stop the little hiccups coming from his throat. “Good. You’re doing a good job,” Chris praises him as he continues to gently rake through his hair with his fingers. Sebastian only wishes he was smiling while doing it. “God, Sebastian.”

 

It feels like hours before Sebastian stops choking and feels like he’s returned to his body. “I’m fine,” He announces with a mumble as he wipes away the rest of the wetness on his face.

 

“You’re not.”

 

Sebastian pouts, wills the tears not to start again. He shakes his head. “I’m not,” he admits for the first time. He laughs brokenly and repeats it, “I’m not.”

 

Chris crawls onto Sebastian’s bed and sits in front of him. He takes Sebastian’s hand and holds it close to his chest, to his heart. “Sebastian,” he coos softly. “Sebastian, talk to me.”

 

He shakes his head again. “I can’t,” he says. “There’s no point.”

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

“But it’s true, Chris. I-I can’t do anything,” Sebastian argues. He doesn’t want to give too much away, doesn’t want Chris to know. But he needs him to understand somehow. “It’s not going to get better. I’m not going to get b-better.”

 

“You can though. You can,” Chris replies, running his other hand through Sebastian’s hair to pull it back from it face. “Therapy, Seb. I-it works. It won’t change… Whatever happened to you but it can help you move on. You deserve to move on.”

 

“I can’t,” Sebastian hisses. “I can barely handle thinking about it. You think– you think I can talk to some fucking shrink about it?”

 

He’s becoming defensive now, Chris can tell. He doesn’t want to pry, doesn’t want to force it out of him. He sighs, “Okay. Just… whenever you feel ready to, if you ever want to, I’ll be here for you. I promise.”

 

He lets go of Sebastian’s hand and goes to return to his bed but his hand is quickly snatched up. Sebastian looks up at him, eyes wide and filled with something akin to fear. “Don’t,” he breathes, holding tightly onto Chris with his clammy, shaking hands. Chris sinks back down beside him. “Don’t go.”

 

“I won’t,” Chris says. He’s taking a leap of faith as he brings his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders and lies them both down, skin against skin. It’s the closest they’ve ever been.

 

Sebastian lets go of his hand and carefully turns himself around in Chris’s arms. They fit together like the puzzle pieces Chris had dreamed of them being. He takes a risk of pressing his face into the back of Sebastian’s head and nosing along his nape, catching a familiar scent there. Sebastian stills in his arms, looks around the room in wait. Chris never mentions anything but he knows. Sebastian knows he knows.

 

It lights a fire inside of Chris so hot, he’s afraid they’re going to be welded together and he won’t be able to let go when the sun finally comes up. But it really wouldn’t change anything for Chris. Sebastian has already been a part of him for months.

 

–

 

Sebastian holds tightly onto Margarita. He doesn’t feel that buzz in his skin wherever they touch.

 

–

 

 _come to texas with me_ , Chris reads. His phone buzzes again with the addition of, _and marg._ He bites his lip, turns it over in his mind.

 

It’s the Super Bowl. Sebastian is going to want all the support he can get there, either to have to celebrate with after they win or for comfort if they lose. But Chris won’t the first person he looks to in any case if Margarita is there. It makes his stomach twist in disheartenment.

 

He doesn’t want his painful need of wanting to be Sebastian’s center of attention to keep him from going but it’s close to convincing him of doing so. He’ll take some measures to avoid being hurt as much as he can. First, he’s not going to join them on the same plane. Second, he’s not going to be within a 10 mile radius of their hotel. He has it that bad for him. And third, he’s leaving as soon as he gets the chance.

 

 _Okay, pal_ , he sends back.

 

–

 

Sebastian’s not sure if the Cowboys Stadium is bigger than the other stadiums they’ve played at or if it feels that way because this is the Super Bowl. He’s thinking both.

 

It’s hours before the game starts. He managed to sneak away from the crowd and find the way to the field. Now he just stands in the middle of it, marvelling at the size of it. He’s so small in comparison. This is the culmination of the past 12 years. His hard work was all in preparation for this moment.

 

He gasps as arms wrap around his waist but his heartbeat settles when he finds Margarita peering over his shoulder. “Are you excited?” She asks, squeezing him.

 

He smiles but can’t find it in himself to truly believe it’s authentic. He’s playing for a great team and getting the chance to win the Super Bowl. He should be happy. But he’s also stood with his girlfriend of soon-to-be four years, the girl he’s declared as the love of his life, and feeling… Nothing.

 

He had imagined the Super Bowl and what it would be like before, during, and after it. He had stapled the happily ever after with Margarita into that. He’s not going to get rid of that. They’ve come too far.

 

“I’m so excited I could die,” Sebastian answers.

 

Chris drops his luggage onto his hotel bed.

 

His room feels lonely. All rooms have felt lonely since sharing one with Sebastian. Since the night in Pittsburgh, their relationship took a hit. They still hung out during the days Sebastian didn’t have practice but Chris could feel the tension, the space growing between them felt like worlds of distance already. He wanted so badly to take Sebastian aside and remind him that he didn’t have to be afraid. He wanted to tell him that he’d love him no matter what secret he had because he is recklessly in love with him. Recklessly.

 

He crosses his arms over his chest as he just thinks about how stupid he was to fall for Sebastian and how stupid he still is to continue to follow him just for a second of his time. He pinches the bridge of his nose as his throat goes tight. He inhales deeply and he’s okay.

 

Sebastian has interviews left and right, and he’s begun to feel like a broken record. He’s excited, he’s so proud of the Patriots for making it here, and he hopes they win. He’s probably wearing a hole into his tie from how much he’s playing with it during these interviews. Sebastian nudges Patrick Chung, their team’s safety, and asks, “Can we take off our suits yet?”

 

“Belichick said one more hour, wait till the cameras are gone and shit,” he answers, clearly just as annoyed to be dressed to the nines as much as Sebastian.

 

They shouldn’t be dressed in suits, they should be in sneakers and shorts and doing drills to warm up for the game. Sebastian is focused on the game, the biggest game of his life. He doesn’t want his focus to be waived by meaningless, trite interviews that won’t help him win a Lombardi trophy. He’s doing a good job at keeping his head preoccupied with thoughts of the Super Bowl but sometimes he catches himself thinking of blue, green-speckled eyes and fingers dancing on piano keys. And he has to shake himself out of it.

 

The hour drags on but it finally comes and everyone is so happy to start removing their bothersome clothing. Sebastian loosening his tie when Belichick comes up to him, tapping him on the shoulder. “There’s someone waiting for you in the hall,” he says, cocking his head in the direction of the door.

 

Sebastian lightly groans as he puts his tie away, making the head coach laugh. Sebastian feels a little proud at managing to make him laugh on one of the most stressful days of the year.

 

Margarita is probably just stood outside, too fearful of walking in on the team being naked. Sebastian chuckles at the thought as he makes his way over to the exit. He steps out and is very deliberate about properly shutting the door behind him. He spins on his heels. “Hey, M–,” it dies in his throat.

 

His fingers twitch and his heartbeat quickens. The collar of his shirt feels like it’s beginning to suffocate him. He’s running, he’s running but he’s not going anywhere. He’s stood right here in the hall and his former coach, Gary Thompson, is there in front of him.

 

Chris was found by Robert Kraft the second he made it to the stadium. He’s always a welcoming face and it brightens Chris’s day a little. “I’ll take you to the locker room so you can wish Stan good luck and all,” he offers. Chris gives him a smile, hoping it doesn’t come across as forced as it feels. He’s conflicted about how much he wants to see Sebastian because both extremes are fighting.

 

“Thank y–,” he cuts himself off to listen closely.

 

Even with the muzak and bustling of people from different directions, he can hear it. He can hear him, his voice bouncing around the corner and down the corridor, “ _Go away. Don’t come near me. Stop. Stop.”_

 

He’s only ever heard Sebastian say those words one time before and he never wanted to hear them again. He saw Sebastian at his worst that night, could hear his heart fracture with every sob. So he cuts his conversation with Rob short and he sprints, doesn’t care who or what is waiting for him. He just knows that Sebastian is in some type of danger and he needs to stop it. “Sebastian!” He calls out as he rounds the corner.

 

He finds him, pale faced and tight fists at his sides. There’s an older man attempting to get closer to him, and Chris knows. He knows and sees red, feels everything inside him turn rabid.

 

He yanks the man by his shoulder and presses him into the wall opposite of Sebastian, his forearm braced against the stranger’s collarbones. He makes sure to meet his eyes that show how enraged he is, how potentially dangerous he is. “He said to go away,” He seethes. Chris doesn’t care who he is or who’s watching, he’ll kill him. He’s thought about killing him ever since he found out that there was a human being responsible for the way Sebastian hurts.

 

“Sebastian,” the man huffs, sounding fed up with his treatment, as he goes to fix his disturbed gray receding hair. “You’re making a scene.”

 

Chris grabs the lapels of his suit to pull him away from the wall just enough to shove him back into it, knocking some air out of his body. “I’m not going to repeat myself,” Chris warns, his voice icy as he stares him down. The stranger finally seems to take it as truth and Chris lets him go. He turns around and his face softens as he finds Sebastian watching the man walk away, wide eyed and shaking. He’s extremely unsettled, he can tell. “Sebastian,” he coos. He places a careful hand on his shoulder and begins to lead him away in the opposite direction of the wall.

 

He’s holding back so Chris finds the nearest empty room, which happens to be a large closet full of cleaning supplies. He locks the door behind the two of them and turns back around to Sebastian staring at the floor. “Sebastian,” he says again as he closes the distance between the both of them and wraps his arms around the younger man. Finally Sebastian chokes up and cries. It hurts Chris that Sebastian is in so much pain but he can’t do anything about it unless he’s given permission to. “It’s okay, Sebastian. It’s okay,” he says, voice cracking on the last syllable.

 

Sebastian’s sobs take a few minutes before they are reduced to the tiny hiccups he always has after a cry. “They… They’re probably looking for me,” he says as he frees himself from Chris’s arms. Sebastian’s voice sounds hollow and Chris doesn’t want him to leave.

 

He steps in front of the door. “Sebastian–”

 

“Hours before the Super Bowl isn’t a good time for a therapy session, Chris,” he says, a hint of venom on his tongue. Chris misses when he would teasingly call him Christopher. “Please move.”

 

Chris sighs in defeat, “Okay. Just tell me, promise me you’re going to be okay… if I let you go.”

 

A beat.

 

Sebastian’s muscles move on their own accord, against his better judgement. His hands go to Chris’s face and he pulls him in close until he can feel the heat of his mouth against his own, heat hot enough to seal their lips together like they were always supposed to be. He kisses Chris angrily and lovingly; hungrily.

 

Chris can taste the salt of his tears, can taste his hurt, and he kisses him deeper. He wants to get rid of all his pain. He’s never had a love like this, one that makes him so hungry and irresponsible. He knows that on the other side of that door, the world is waiting and expecting Sebastian to go to Margarita and Chris to be a friend.

 

It’s dangerous for them to be doing this, they shouldn’t be. But Chris’s love is greedy. He doesn’t care for a clean cut or a proper happy ending with Sebastian. He never expected anything close to a happy ending. But here is Sebastian putting everything on the line by kissing him, wanting him, even for just a moment. Chris will take what he can get.

 

Sebastian’s hands start shaking again and he stops kissing Chris with a tiny gasp. His eyes are wide with fear and his lips are bitten red. “I-I’m sorry,” he breathes before pushing Chris aside and walking out of the closet. The door slams and Chris feels everything inside of him crumble when the waves of the sound hit him.

 

In the long hours leading up to the start of the game, Chris and Sebastian miraculously manage to keep their distance. Most of the time. The times they do pass each other or come into close proximity, they ignore each other the best they can. But Sebastian’s body is drawn to him and Chris can feel Sebastian, feel his heartbeat pick up like a metal detector to gold when he’s near.

 

Chris sits in the stands just as people begin to flood in, dressed and painted in the colors of the team they’re rooting for. It’s supposed to be so colorful and vivid but his vision has gone grey. He touches the skin of his face, running his fingers over his beard, and can only think of how Sebastian’s cheek was pressed there too. The memory of the feeling is enough to make his head go dizzy.

 

Sebastian plays on autopilot. He’s empty, terrifyingly lacking nerves while playing the biggest game of his life. He’s become robotic, objective and analytical, because it’s the only way to have his mind cleared of Chris. He plays, doesn’t enjoy any of the scores they make, doesn’t bother himself with the flashy halftime show by The Black Eyed Peas and other performers. He just plays.

 

The problem with his state is that it isn’t 100% successful when everyone else on the field is the opposite, allowing themselves to be influenced by rapidly changing thoughts and emotions. Sebastian is a dual threat quarterback and everyone’s been betting on him to be named MVP for the Patriots. So it makes sense that in order to weaken their performance, a player on the opposing team would take it upon himself to take down Sebastian.

 

He throws the ball and it feels like a repeat of the last game. A body collides with his like a large bullet and it all slows down as he falls and hits the ground. He feels that same pain in his leg and lets out a ragged gasp. All the brutality of football is magnified when it’s the Super Bowl. The pain in his knee is magnified, only slightly but enough to have him breathing sharply through his nose at the feeling of his nerves burning.

 

He doesn’t even know who it is that helps him get to his feet and asks if he’s okay to keep playing. He doesn’t care. He steps on his foot, bites his lip, and breathes, “I’m fine.” _You’re not_ , Chris would tell him while no one else would dare to. But he isn’t on the field with Sebastian. He’s in the stands and he can’t stop and protect Sebastian now.

 

He clenches his jaw with every step back to the line of scrimmage. They’re down to the last few minutes of the game and they're still tied 25-25 with the Packers. They just need to get even a single point and keep their advancement to win. He looks over the teams, observing the Packer’s formation before getting into his spot behind the center again.

 

He calls the play that Belichick gives him through his earpiece. The ball is snapped to him again and he watches as the play they predicted the Packer’s to have chosen is proven incorrect. This compromises their own plans. Sebastian has a fraction of a second to decide what to do.

 

He runs with the ball. Every step is more excruciating than the last but the play they called works for him and he knows that it’ll all be over and it’ll be worth it once he makes it to the end zone. He bites his lip as tears burn in the corner of his eyes and a groan rips from his throat because it feels like his leg is going to tear itself apart. He keeps pushing. There’s only a few more yards and no one is going to stop him.

 

Every yard he runs makes the roaring in the stadium rise another decibel. But nothing compares to the way the entire structure feels like it’s shaking when he falls into the end zone.

 

He sits in the end zone with his legs laid flat on the ground and he rips off his helmet. He’s cut off his emotions for the most grueling game of his life so every physical thing he feels is too focused on. He needs to tap into his emotions again, no matter how clouded they are by everything that went wrong today.

 

He cries, he cries the way he does when only Chris would be there to witness. He’s an absolute mess when his teammates come to him and carefully lift him up, in victory or to get him some aid, he doesn’t know.

 

They won the Super Bowl. When he first picked up that ratty, old football at school with no idea how to throw it with a spin, he would have never believed he’d make it here. When he was 17 and barely holding on, he never saw himself making it anywhere. But he’s here now and he’s won. And he’s so grateful for holding on.

 

He gets choked up remembering. He owes it to his younger self to enjoy this victory. “Put me down,” he says to Edelman, whose shoulder he’s sitting on. Carefully, they get him to the ground. Julian keeps an arm around him but Sebastian pats him on the chest as he takes a limping step.

 

“Good job,” Julian says and pulls him into a hug, hitting him on the back. “You’re the best fucking quarterback ever, Sebastian.”

 

Sebastian smiles, still teary-eyed and face smushed in Julian’s shoulder. He’s congratulated by his other teammates, all of them saying such kind things to him that he feels so undeserving of it all, and players for Green Bay. Aaron Rodgers, the quarterback for the Packers, gives him a handshake and says, “Good play.”

 

He hears the cheering as Gronk leads the rest of the team into lifting the tank of Gatorade and pouring it on any of the coaches they can nail. At the same moment, confetti is shot into the air. Red, white, blue, and silver flutters in the air all around them.

 

The crowd around him is too dense, cameras are in his face, and people are trying to grab him for a moment of his time. But he sees Margarita shoving through the sea to get to him. And eventually, they meet in the middle. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her, tries not to think about the fact that cameras are likely getting all of it. He kisses her desperately. Whether that desperation comes from pure desire or his need to find out if he still feels something, he doesn’t want to admit to himself. But he pulls away and has to force a smile. So maybe he has his answer.

 

He looks around and finds himself on the stadium’s giant screen hung over the center of the field. Dread fills him knowing that Chris saw him kiss Margarita. But maybe that’s a good thing, a silver lining of sorts. He needs to push Chris away. He made a plan for his life, something he structured when he needed something stable, and he wants to keep it. He can’t allow himself to let Chris to get in the way of that.

 

He manages to sneak away before the presentation of the Lombardi trophy. He’s sure he’ll get in trouble if they notice he’s missing but he is in need of medical assistance. His medical assistance comes in the form of picking up some sports tape from his locker and then locking himself away in a stall to fix up his knee and then cry some more. His emotions are clearly dialed to 11 today.

 

Chris doesn’t know how it happens. But even after being kicked in the stomach after already being knocked down, he finds himself at the victory party. He doesn’t think anything here will lift his spirits because every time he shuts his eyes, he sees Sebastian kissing Margarita on the field for the world to see when hours before he was kissing Chris in a closet. The contrast between the two is laughable.

 

A closet. They kissed in a closet. Chris chuckles sadly to himself at the symbolism before he brings his cup to his lips and drinks. He’s sticking to soda and juices tonight because he’s terrified if a drop of alcohol gets into his system, he’ll be ready to purge himself of his troubles to anyone who’ll listen. Fuck. He’s already terrified he’ll do it completely sober.

 

He’s brokenhearted. He shouldn’t be at a party, feeling out of place. He should be home with his mother and on the phone with Scott, letting them laugh at how foolish he is crying before he cracks a smile himself. He’s itching for just that because this party, no matter how extravagant and how many big celebrities are present, can’t give him what he needs. He needs familiarity, warmth. He needs a home.

 

For months, he thought there was a home being built for him in Sebastian. He went to London and only forgot that there was an ocean between him and Boston when he had Sebastian on the phone. He learned how to play Wish You Were Here on piano and felt the song wrap him in a solace and familiarity that reminded him of Sebastian. He went to Pennsylvania and never felt like he left his childhood home because he was there with the only person he’d barely known for a year yet felt like he’d known his whole life. He thought he had a home. But today he found an eviction notice on the door.

 

He revokes his plan to not drink.

 

He gets a Stone IPA instead of a more preferable, sweet drink because he’s not trying to enjoy himself. He’s just trying to take the edge off. He winces at the taste but swallows anyway.

 

Sebastian is shaking. He’s talking to Mark Wahlberg, who he’s just found out is a big Patriot, and he’s smiling. He’s sat at one of the many bars at this party with Margarita at his side, his hand on her hip, and he’s shaking. He hasn’t stopped shaking for hours, his top layer of skin is freezing while everything underneath is hot.

 

Mark Wahlberg squeezes his shoulder before excusing himself. Margarita smiles at him and says, “You’re friends with so many movie stars now.” She playfully pinches his bicep. “How does it feel?”

 

Sebastian shrugs before throwing back his drink, eating the fruit garnish that sits on the ice. “I’ll be right back. Have to piss,” he murmurs against Margarita’s cheek before pressing a kiss to it. He worms his way through the party until he reaches the restrooms.

 

He splashes water on his face and breathes. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. He has 7 minutes and text messages from several of his teammates counting it down. He’s going to lose his mind.

 

He exits the bathroom in search of Chris because he needs to see him once more before his time is up. He finds him sitting at a table, further away from everyone else. Sebastian knows that Chris sees him coming but chooses to look away. He keeps going.

 

Sebastian stands in front of him and timidly asks, “Can I sit?” Chris finally meets his eyes and then glances at the empty space of orange cushion next to him before nodding. Sebastian takes a seat and places his hands on his knees, wincing.

 

“Your knee fucked up again?” Chris asks, his voice empty. He hates him, Sebastian knows it. And he’s glad for it even if it hurts.

 

“Yeah,” he answers. It doesn’t make sense to make small talk with Chris. He checks the time again. He has 4 minutes. He takes another breath before adding, “I just want to apologize for what I did… And what I’m about to do.”

 

He’s gone before Chris can ask for any clarification.

 

The boisterous music is turned down and Dan Connolly takes the main stage with a mic in his hand. He has a large grin on his face, a bit of alcohol and a Super Bowl win suits him. “Alright. Thank you all for coming…. We just won the Super Bowl,” that receives a round of applause and cheering, “And as cool as that is, as great as that is, it doesn’t beat this. This is fucking awesome. Come up here, Sebastian!”

 

Chris feels the white noise in his brain grow louder as he sees Sebastian go onto the stage, pulling Margarita on with him. He knows what’s happening and it makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

 

Sebastian’s shaking again, can barely breathe, but he’s sure everyone else will read it as nerves, not absolute dread. He can’t bend down on his knee due to his injury and he can barely get his sweaty fingertips around the ring in his pocket. It’s the universe giving him signs that this isn’t what he’s supposed to be doing but he’s already here and he can’t take it back now.

 

He’s played this moment out a hundred times in his head ever since he met Margarita. He has always been so sure of it.

 

He sees Margarita’s face light up and she covers her gasping mouth with her hands. Dan hands Sebastian the mic. “Marg,” he says into it. He takes a deep, ragged breath and swallows the lump in his throat. “We’ve been together for almost four years now.” Truth. “And there is no one I’ve ever felt so happy to be with.” Lie. “No one… I’ve ever felt so safe with.” Lie. “I want you and only you for the rest of my life.” _Lie_. “So if you feel the same… Will you marry me?”

 

Chris is out the door before he hears Margarita’s answer but even outside, he can hear the joyful cheering so he knows. He wishes he didn’t.

 

–

 

With the press tour for Captain America: The First Avenger, Chris is able to keep himself distracted from the pain of the Sebastian-shaped hole in his heart. It’s good but since he doesn’t allow himself to mourn what could’ve been, he doesn’t really heal from it either. It’s an ache that creeps up on him while he’s lying in bed at night until he gets himself out of bed and out into the city that he finds himself in, ready to drown out his sorrows in alcohol. Sometimes girls or men if he can get over the nauseating feelings that approaching them gives him. He never feels better in the morning but he survives, which is enough.

 

He hasn’t returned to Massachusetts in months. It’s probably just a part of him being dramatic but he thinks he might never go back. He’s doing promo so he has a real reason not to and he has a house in Los Angeles to escape to when he’s finished. He doesn’t have to go back.

 

When all the interviews and red carpets are checked off from his list, it’s the middle of July. He’s in Los Angeles, sitting in his backyard with his only company being the singing birds in the trees around him while the sun rises. He’s replying to the emails that have been accumulating and getting other things that he’s been too careless about done. For a moment, he feels like the puzzle of his life is pieced together again. But with one thought of Sebastian, his fingers freeze on his keyboard until a small window beeps him out of his trance, asking if he wants to activate stickykeys.

 

So maybe there is a puzzle piece still missing right from the center. He’ll find it again.

 

“Sebastian,” he jolts awake at his name and the hand squeezing his arm.

 

“Wh-what?” He says, groggily and dazed. He sits up from where he lies on the living room couch. His head hurts and his mouth tastes bitter and stale. He’s sure something probably died in his mouth. Margarita is holding the murder weapon, swishing around the scotch in the bottle.

 

“You need to stop getting drunk and passing out on the couch.”

 

Sebastian rubs at his tired eyes as he mutters, “I know.”

 

“You say that every time and the next morning, I still find you here,” she adds. It’s the same argument they have every morning for the past week or two. The script never changes.

 

“I know,” Sebastian repeats like he always does. He wishes he could feel bad for it but he has himself convinced that he only ever feels anything when he’s drinking. So he drinks a lot.

 

It isn’t all bad though. He hasn’t developed a large gut from it because he still has a regimen of working out at least 4 times a week to follow and he drinks lots of water throughout the day. He’s healthy and he’s going to live to 100. So he drinks to fight off the thoughts of simply not _wanting_ to.

 

“Maybe… Maybe we should go out, watch a movie,” Margarita suggests. “Chris’s movie just came out a few days ago.”

 

It sounds like a terrible idea but terrible ideas have become Sebastian’s area of expertise recently. He smiles tiredly before answering with, “Sure.”

 

They get to the movie showing pretty late because Sebastian forgot for a moment that, even though time isn’t real, they only had 20 minutes to get to the cinema. He lost track of time while staring at himself in the mirror, trying to figure out if he knew the person looking back at him. It wasn’t the thicker than normal stubble or longer hair. It was something else but Sebastian couldn’t place it, didn’t want to acknowledge it.

 

He sits in the theater with his hand on Margarita’s thigh. He’s pretty proud of himself for being able to go through watching Chris kiss a blonde unaffected. Then he feels like laughing at himself at how that isn’t the case when he sincerely kisses Peggy Carter in a moving vehicle. His hand actually clutches Margarita’s knee and he doesn’t realize it until she’s swatting him away because of the pain it brings her.

 

He knows what Chris’s lips feel like and to see them pressed against someone else’s, lips that don’t belong to Sebastian, really really sucks.

 

 _So that’s what that feels like_ , he thinks.

 

–

 

Sebastian is on the couch again but this time, it isn’t the morning after and Margarita doesn’t scold him. She sends him a look of disappointment and pity as she picks up the bottle of liquor he decided on that night and his drinking glass. She puts it away in their kitchen and quickly returns to the living room, where Sebastian still hasn’t moved and hasn’t protested the removal of his alcohol.

 

Margarita sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of him and sighs. Her eyes are glazed over and Sebastian can tell he’s tearing her apart too. She takes a deep breath and pulls her hair behind her ear. Sebastian knows that this conversation is going to change his life. It’s going to be as big as the silence that fills the room. He’s worried he’s too drunk for it though.

 

Margarita takes another breath that cuts the silence and she looks up, meeting Sebastian’s eyes. “You’re not doing okay, Sebastian,” she says simply. Her voice rises in pitch, a telltale of her throat going tight as she fights off the urge to cry.

 

Sebastian curls his lips in before a shuddering breath leaves them and he says, “I know.” He sits up and places his face in his hands, tears threatening to spill from his eyes

 

“What happened?” She asks.

 

Sebastian looks up at her, sees how the ways he’s neglected his own well being affect her too. She loves him, and Sebastian has forgotten that with how lost he’s been. He sits back and smiles halfheartedly as he wipes his tears with a sniffle. “Do you think…,” he clears his throat and blinks his raw eyes, “Do you think I’ll make you happy forever, Marg?”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you still think I’m the one?” Sebastian runs his hands through his hair and wonders when the last time he washed it was because it feels too oily. He blinks out more tears. “... It’s not your fault. It’s not– It’s nobody’s fault,” he says, more to himself than to Margarita. “I-I wanted so much with you. I saw marriage and children in our future. But right now, I’m having a hard time even seeing passed tomorrow. And it’s all me, it’s not your fault. I- I changed… or maybe it’s… that I _didn’t_ change. Not really. I think… I don’t think I’m the one for you anymore. I don’t think our… Puzzle pieces fit anymore.”

 

It’s a bombshell revelation and Margarita takes it gracefully. She nods and lets tears escape her eyes. It only makes Sebastian panic more. He’s quick to add, “Y-you can tell anyone who asks whatever you want. Tell them anything. It’s my fault. And I’ll send you money when you go back to California or sh-shit, you can take this house if you want. I-I don’t know what else to say.”

 

Margarita laughs wetly and leans forward to cup Sebastian’s face. The smile on her face crumbles and she whimpers, “Do you love him?” Sebastian lips purse as more tears escape his eyes. She knows. He wonders how long she’s known. The question is in his tear-filled eyes and she answers it, “You were too drunk to remember it but sometimes, sometimes you said his name.”

 

He only ever feels something when he thinks about Chris. “Then it all made sense.” She repeats herself, “Do you love him?”

 

Sebastian squeezes the tears out of his eyes and inhales. “I think I do,” he whispers. He shakes his head and tries again, “I do. I love him.”

 

It scares him to admit. But she smiles and says, “That’s all I care about. I just want you to be happy, Sebastian.”

 

“I kissed him,” he blurts out because the guilt of that event still haunts him. He did that with Margarita being completely unaware of it. “The day of the Super Bowl, Je– I don’t know what happened. But I kissed him, and I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

 

She looks upset but only for a moment. She soldiers on through the minor feeling of betrayal. Sebastian loves her to the very core. But he doesn’t love her in the right way, in the way she deserves. “It’s okay, Sebastian,” she says, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. Margarita sniffles before leaning in and softly pressing her lips against Sebastian’s.

 

It’s bittersweet because they both know it’s going to be their last one. Teeth clash together and lips are bitten but when they pull away, they eye each other tenderly. Sebastian falls into her chest and wraps his arms around her as he begins to cry again. She kisses his head and he trembles in her hold. A flower of hope has bloomed in his chest where he tore out his own heart. It’s rebirth.

 

–

 

Sebastian feels less guilt weighing down his stomach in the days that come but he knows that he still needs to give Chris the goodbye he deserves or get that second chance he knows he’s not worthy of. He just needs to make things right, as right as he can at least. But it’s terrifying. He imagines all the ways their first encounter after the proposal could go wrong and it makes him feel hopeless. He’s really defeatist when it comes to the only things in his life that actually fucking matter.

 

He wakes up late and the sun bursting through his curtains reflects off the walls of his bedroom, his vision filled with blinding white that messes with his head. He needs to do something. He drags himself out of bed and goes out into the living room where his phone is abandoned on the coffee table. He pockets it in the pants he didn’t bother taking off last night.

 

He’s knocking on Chris’s door and tries to swallow the anxiety rising in his throat as he waits. The doorknob finally turns and Sebastian fights the urge to close his eyes the way he used to as a child when he thought monsters were in his room. But there’s no monster and there’s no Chris either.

 

Lisa doesn’t look angry to see him, which is relieving. “Sebastian? What are you doing here, sweetheart?” She asks, pressing her hip into the door frame.

 

“Is Chris– Uh, is Chris…”

 

“Ah. If you’re looking for Chris, he isn’t here. He’s probably in Los Angeles,” she frowns a little and shrugs. “He hasn’t been here in awhile and he has a house there. So.”

 

Sebastian feels his light dim a little and he forlornly blurts out, “Oh.” Did he chase Chris away from his home?

 

She eyes him apologetically and clears her throat, taking a step forward and shutting the door behind her. “I think… Something may have happened. I don’t like getting into my son’s business unless he needs me to but he’s never not come back without telling us first. I think you might know,” she says. Sebastian doesn’t know if she’s accusing him of something but he wouldn’t blame her. She sighs, “You make him really happy, you know? So… I’m going to give you his address. Use it or don’t but I want to give it to you.”

 

Sebastian paces around his living room, staring at the daunting piece of paper in his hand with Chris’s Los Angeles home address scribbled on it. A needle of pain poking his temple follows the beat of every passing second. He takes a deep breath before retrieving his phone from his pocket, finding a contact, and hitting the Call button. He manages a tiny smile at the voice that greets him before he says, “Mama… I want to come home.” And then Sebastian is buying tickets for the next flight to California.

 

He gets a lot of time to think during the flight but he can never figure out what the right thing to say is. But knowing Chris, he guesses that it wouldn’t matter to him what he said as long as it was honest and true. That’s what he’s deserving of after all the shit Sebastian put him through.

 

He beats his knuckles against the cherry wood door and waits. It’s a near minute before the door is opened and Sebastian’s mother is pulling him into her arms as well as the house, away from the outdoor heat. It’s a lot of cheek kisses and Missed You’s back and forth until Sebastian can finally breathe again. “I’m making dinner right now so I hope you’re hungry,” she says.

 

“Airplane food could never compare to your food, Mama,” Sebastian replies before kissing her cheek. “ _Te iubesc_.”

 

She brightens and says, “ _Te iubesc_.”

 

Sebastian wanders deeper into the house. He doesn’t know how he manages to feel so alien yet so connected to this house. He drags his fingertips along the walls of the hallway and halts in front of his bedroom door.

 

There’s still a dent in it from that time he was 17 and punched it. The wood was thick so even though he caused some damage to it, he caused way more to his own knuckles. He takes the doorknob in his hand and twists it, pushing open the door to his childhood and teenage days.

 

His room looks exactly how he left it 4 years ago. Trophies placed on shelves and medals hung on the walls, his bed done and untouched for years maybe, and framed pictures of him on different football fields placed around the room. He looks at the picture of 13-year-old him next to Gary, smiling. The 14-year-old picture, still smiling. 15-year-old, the ends of his lips are barely curled. 16, tired smile. 17, no smile at all. He never took a picture with Gary after if he could help it.

 

He leaves his bedroom when his mother saves him from diving deeper into his thoughts and calls him for dinner.

 

–

 

Sebastian shouldn’t have even bothered trying to sleep in his bedroom because nights in Massachusetts were hard to endure enough when he couldn’t discern reality from his nightmares, when he felt trapped in every bad memory.

 

Frustrated tears run down his cheeks before he throws off his duvet and stands from his bed. He puts on some clothes, aged burgundy sweatpants from his university and a white t-shirt, and throws on some shoes before sneaking out of the house quietly. The cold chills his bones and he curls in on himself to keep his chest warm.

 

The old car he left behind when he moved to Massachusetts is still in the driveway, enshrouded in a car cover and forgotten. The plates are likely expired. But Sebastian needs it tonight.

 

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. It’s the mantra going through his head as he drives and listens to the GPS on his phone. He tries not to look at the radio’s clock as much as he can because the time of night reminds him too much that this could be a massive mistake. He doesn’t know when anything good has ever happened to him at 1 AM. Or anyone, really.

 

Chris wakes up in his bed, his mouth feeling like sandpaper. It’s uncomfortable and his awareness of it makes him realize he’ll have to sacrifice the comfort of his bed for a few minutes to get water or he’s not going back to sleep. He sighs in surrender to the dryness of his mouth and gets out of bed.

 

In the kitchen, he swallows down his water in large gulps and feels the chill satisfyingly spread through his chest. He places the glass in the sink and starts back for his bedroom but he stops in his tracks when he hears the knocks at his door.

 

No one should be at his door right now. He considers just getting into bed and pretending he didn’t hear a thing because he couldn’t be blamed for it, it’s passed midnight. But that just seems rude so he reluctantly goes to answer it. He places silent fingertips against the door as he leans in to peer in the peephole. His breath gets caught in his throat.

 

 _Sebastian_.

 

Chris steps back from the peephole, blinks and rubs his eyes, and then returns to look back into it once more. He’s still there, looking small and chewing his thumb nail. He’s not a sleep-deprived hallucination. He’s real and he’s outside his door. Fuck.

 

More knocks. Chris steps away from the door and reminds himself to breathe. As he goes to unlock the entrance, he really wishes he had put on a shirt.

 

Sebastian, who is close to giving up and turning around, hears the click of one lock and then two. His heartbeat matches the flutter of a hummingbird's wings as the doorknob turns and the door opens, Chris being revealed behind it in all his ruffled up perfection that only the night time could give him. “It’s 1 AM. What are you doing here, Seb?” He asks, not sounding angry but concerned and a bit tired.

 

Sebastian looks for a proper explanation or the start of an apology. But he can’t find anything or get anything out but a broken, “I need some sleep.” Then he’s pressing himself against Chris without any thought, wrapping his arms around his strong middle and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He feels Chris tense in his hold and feels awful, feels embarrassed that he ruined everything even more until it melts away and Chris’s arms come around him too.

 

Chris nuzzles his face into Sebastian’s hair and shudders as he breathes in his scent, something so intrinsic to Sebastian only and something he’s been without for such a long time, it’s heady. He tries not to get too intoxicated off of the reintroduction of Sebastian to his senses, they’re going to have to talk about what happened and what he wants to happen next. But first he says, “Alright, let’s go to bed.”

 

Sebastian feels so at peace with his head rested above Chris’s soft, beating heart and his chest hair tickling his face. This is all he wants and he needs to make sure Chris knows that. “I’m going to start therapy,” he reveals. Chris’s gaze lingers down to look at Sebastian, who has a solemn smile on his face and nods in confirmation of his words. “I want to get better. I think… I think it’s time I tried it since ignoring the fuck out of all my problems hasn’t really worked out too well,” he says with a dark chuckle. He swallows the lump growing in his throat and adds, “It made me lose you.”

 

It’s aching honesty, Chris can hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. “It didn’t,” he replies softly as his hand cups Sebastian’s face and strokes the highpoint of his cheekbone. “I’m still here, Seb.”

 

Tears bubble in the corner of Sebastian’s eyes before he smiles and blinks them out. “God,” he sighs. “You should hate me. You should hate me for what I’ve done. All I’ve done is bring you pain that you don’t deserve… and you should–”

 

Chris rolls Sebastian onto the mattress beside him before turning himself over and pinning Sebastian down with his weight, resting his chin on his sternum. “You’re trying to push me away again,” he says softly, a sad twinkle in his eye but he’s smiling at Sebastian. “That’s a nasty little habit you’re going to have to break, Sebby,” his smile dims minutely, “But I’m going to stick with you because it– being away hasn’t been easy for me either. I know, I know you’ve done some stuff and it did make me sad but you’re here now and that’s all I care about.”

 

Sebastian stretches his neck forward and Chris backs away like he’s flinching. Sebastian immediately starts to burn with embarrassment but dejectedly says, “If you’re not going to kiss me, you might as well just kill me. Fuck, I feel so stupid.” He looks around for an escape but under Chris’s body, he’s trapped.

 

“No, it’s not– I just don’t know if I can yet. I’m glad… I’m glad you’re here. I missed you so fucking much. But I don’t know what changes you’ve made and I can’t let the past repeat itself,” he clarifies, managing to still keep it vague.

 

Sebastian knows what he’s saying. “I left her,” he replies. “She started the conversation. Told me she knew. She was okay with it.”

 

Chris processes his words and what they mean. Sebastian broke it off with Margarita, and she was okay with it. He and Sebastian were a possibility thanks to Margarita, the one person Chris thought stymied any chance. It must've taken a lot of strength from Sebastian too. He knows that Sebastian can ignore his own pain and needs and hide them from others so to be honest about something so big, something with so much potential to be a complete shitshow had to be a lot for him.

 

Chris kisses him.

 

He’s hilariously relieved that it doesn’t compare to their first kiss. They’re not inside a closet in a giant stadium in Texas but in his bed at the dead of night, and they’re starting to heal.

 

Sebastian drags his nails along the sides of Chris’s head, burying his fingers into his growing hair as he continues to kiss him. He winds his tongue back into his own mouth and pecks once more at Chris’s lips before saying, “Come back to Massachusetts.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Okay,” Sebastian smiles as he caresses Chris’s face. “Now get off me.”

 

Chris laughs before rolling off and lying beside him, their shoulders pressed against each other. But after months apart, it just won’t do. He slides his arm underneath Sebastian’s back and pulls him in to wrap his other arm around his waist. Their bodies are slotted together and it’s bliss.

 

Sebastian, who was dying to keep it all bottled up inside is now dying to let Chris know some of it before they go any further. He needs to be sure that nothing will make Chris change his mind and if it does, it’s better that he finds out now than later down the line. Chris notices his internal dilemma and gently shakes him, “What’s wrong, Sebby?”

 

He has to do it now. He inhales and glances up at Chris’s ceiling. “I used to really love space as a kid. I had a lot of books on it and I learned about stars and planets and just… Everything, man,” Sebastian sighs as he mindlessly traces spirals into Chris’s moonwashed skin with his finger. “My stepdad got me those glow-in-the-dark stars that you can stick on the ceiling.”

 

“Didn’t even know you had a stepdad,” Chris comments quietly, more to himself than Sebastian.

 

“Yeah. I don’t really like to talk about him because he’s not in my life anymore… And the things he left behind, well, they did a lot to me when I was younger,” he clears his throat. “I think I knew I was gay when I was 10 years old. And I know. I know I was with Margarita for 4 years, but it wasn’t me closeting myself or hoping to make it go away. It was just me really loving her so maybe I’m not entirely gay, I don’t know. But I think a part of it was also me trying to deal with my… Trauma.

 

“But anyway, my stepdad. He was religious. Like really religious. I don’t know how it happened but when I was 15 and _things_ in my life were getting so much fucking worse, he asked me if I was gay. I said that I wasn’t because I was scared to tell the truth, and the way he smiled and told me he was relieved… It fucked me up. Like there goes the last man in my life I thought I could trust,” he chuckles wetly.

 

Chris whispers carefully, “Who was the first?” He thinks he already knows the answer.

 

Sebastian doesn’t meet his gaze as he somberly answers, “My old coach, Gary Thompson.” His icy blues meet Chris’s eyes and he stares him down silently, thoughts going through his head. He takes a shaky breath and says, “I think I want to spare you all the details.”

 

“You tell me whatever you need to tell me,” Chris replies, “in whatever way you want.”

 

“It’s kind of big,” Sebastian swallows to rid of the sudden dryness in his throat. “If you don’t want this, don’t want me after I tell you, that’s completely fair because… it’s big. And you already know I’m a handful. So if you don’t, know I understand.”

 

“A handful means nothing when I’ve got two,” Chris says as he dances all 10 of his fingertips on Sebastian’s back. It’s enough to get a small smile out of him which is more than Chris could’ve hoped for.

 

Chris is patient as he waits for Sebastian to continue. “Um… He, um…,” Sebastian starts to choke but he fights through it. “We were really poor when we first came here and my mom, she wanted to keep me from going down a bad path so she signed me up for this youth center down the street. Kids went there after school or during the weekends and played sports, mostly. That’s where I met Gary. He taught me how to throw a football, taught me how to play, and told me that if I stuck with it, I could get myself to university without any financial strain on my mother. I thought he was some kind of angel or something. And it turned out that he really wasn’t.

 

“He had me tricked for 2 and a half years, pulled the wool over my eyes. Ha. It was some Stockholm Syndrome shit… He’d beat me down whenever we lost a game and then build me back up after. He became the only person who could build me back up because I felt like I disappointed him the most. He became the center of my world and everything I did was to… Impress him and make him happy,” Sebastian feels his skin crawl. “I didn’t know how to be happy without him and he… Took advantage of that.”

 

His bottom lip trembles and tears escape his eyes. It’s humiliating to relive how much he loved Gary even at the cost of himself. “What did he do, Sebastian?” Chris asks, gulping as a million horrible possibilities race through his mind. “What did he do to you?”

 

Sebastian squirms in his hold and Chris lets go to give him more space, knows he needs it. “I didn’t think anything of the way he always got in my space, brushed against me, held me. I didn’t want to think anything. But then… He wouldn’t feel the need to leave the room when I got dressed and he started kissing my face and let me drink with him… And– and,” a wail cuts him off. He presses his hands over his mouth to stifle his noises but Chris’s moves them away, scared it’ll hinder his breathing, and kisses his knuckles. “I didn’t want to. I never wanted t-to, I-I knew it was wrong. It felt wrong. But I wanted to make him–” _happy_.

 

Sebastian hides his face in Chris’s chest as the tears begin to flow without any restriction. Chris bursts into tears with him, shocked that someone could ever do that to his Sebastian, someone he trusted, and that he lived with this pain deep inside him for years. “He’d lock the d-door to my room and do things to me. A-and all I did was stare at the fucking stars on the ce-ceiling and wait for it to end. I d-didn’t like space so much after that started,” Sebastian stammers over tears. “He used to guilt me into it whenever we l-lost a game, and because of that, I worked myself hard and became the fucking star athlete and made sure that I always went out there and won. I didn’t accept failure and it… It almost killed me.”

 

His 17th year of life was the hardest, and no kid should’ve gone through what had happened to him. No one. He couldn’t tell his mom because she loved Gary for everything he did for Sebastian. He couldn’t tell his stepdad because every time he considered it, he saw him smiling that time he lied and said he was straight.

 

He closed in on himself. He became a recluse, only focused on being a better athlete but not a better son, better friend, better person. No, he was angry a lot and aggravated so easily. His expression was a permanent glare to keep people away and rot was growing under his skin. He was so lost.

 

Nothing made him feel good anymore, everything having been taken from him or tainted. And sometimes while he lied in bed, the thought of suicide would call him. Some nights he wanted to pick up more than others. He never did though. Even when he cried and almost tore out all of his hair, screamed into his pillow and punched his mattress, shook with all the disgust he had for himself, he never did. He held on.

 

“And for the most part, it’s all been worth it,” Sebastian finishes with a sniffle because he can go on for days, the horrors would never stop.

 

Chris slips his hand over Sebastian’s nape and pulls him in, their forehead pressed together. “Oh, Seb,” he whimpers, tears collecting on his bottom lashes before sinking onto his cheeks. “Thank you… Thank you for holding on. Fuck.”

 

He kisses Sebastian chastely before lying back and going over it all again in his head.

 

Aside from all the details, there are only two things Chris really learned. One, Sebastian was a survivor of child molestation and rape but he was still his Sebastian and it wasn’t going to change anything. Two, he was going to give Sebastian the love and understanding he’s deserved for years. He has suffered enough.

 

A possible point one and a half would be that Chris was absolutely going to crush Gary Thompson’s skull to dust with his bare hands. But that’s a conversation he’s going to have with Sebastian some other time, when his eyelids aren’t so heavy, because people like that shouldn’t be out in the world to put other people at risk.

 

When he turns to say goodnight, he finds Sebastian already breathing softly with his eyes shut, his peaceful expression contrasting with how it was just a few minutes ago. Chris kisses his forehead lightly and murmurs, “I love you.”

 

–

 

Sebastian unlocks the front door to his house and quietly steps inside with Chris behind him. “I feel like… A teenager sneaking my boyfriend in,” Sebastian snickers. “I don’t even think my mother’s home.”

 

“Oh, then why the fuck are we being all secretive and shit?” Chris asks with a laugh, patting Sebastian gently on his lower back.

 

“This is probably weird but… Every time I think of my bedroom, I think of really shitty things,” Sebastian says, foreign that even in his vagueness, someone understands it clearly. “I want something…”

 

“Good,” Chris finishes for him, giving him an encouraging smile. He cocks his head in the direction of the hall and takes his hand, “Let’s go then.”

 

Chris notices the dent in the door but doesn’t comment on it. He squeezes Sebastian’s hand reassuringly as he opens the door. The room that Sebastian painted for him last night and this morning comes to life as they enter.

 

Sebastian sits them both down on his bed, the springs straining under their combined weight. He smiles at Chris, bright and unreserved, and he thinks it’s the first time in a decade he’s smiled like that in this room.

 

Chris brings their lips together and kisses him languidly, indulging himself in the sweet mint of Sebastian’s warm mouth. He opens his eyes and the pictures on the wall interest him, one specifically. Sebastian must notice his attention slipping somewhere else because he stops kissing him and with a giggle, asks, “What’s up?”

 

Sebastian turns his head, following his gaze to the picture behind him. He’s staring at the one of him singing on stage, wearing fake glasses and an ugly vest. “I didn’t know you did theater,” Chris says, briefly pointing up at it. “What play was that?”

 

“Little Shop,” Sebastian answers with a rueful smile. “I was Seymour. It was the only play I did… It was an afterschool program so it was always considered secondary, something I did on my own time. And it worked out for my schedule until Gary started making practices the days I was supposed to rehearse and stuff. And I knew I was weakening the quality of our production when I kept missing rehearsals so I said goodbye to it… ‘Cause I couldn’t do that to them.”

 

“He made you… Give up acting?” Chris asks, disgusting curling in his stomach and up into his chest. Sebastian nods, a little pout to his lips. “Fucking hell, Sebastian. Do theater again. Do it with me. We’ll go to a little class somewhere in Boston, go when we’re free. It’ll be fun.”

 

“Okay,” Sebastian answers before repeating a little more giddily, “Okay. Yeah.”

 

Chris hugs him, playing with the ends of his hair with one hand and rubbing circles into his back with the other. He wants to give back everything Sebastian was made to give up, wants to repair as much as he can. He winds back just enough to get face to face with Sebastian, a mischievous smirk on his face, “Also I don’t know if you’ve noticed but… I’m Captain America.” He kisses Sebastian’s jaw. “If you ever want to… I can help you get into this industry.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Not going to give you a lead role alongside DiCaprio, still going to make you work for it, kid. But… I’ll ease the way just a little,” Chris teases.

 

“Okay. Well, don’t come crying to me when I win an Oscar before you,” Sebastian chuckles before cupping his face and kissing him hotly. He bites Chris’s bottom lip and pulls away. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news but I have a plane to catch in an hour.”

 

“Why?” Chris grumbles.

 

“I planned for the worst,” Sebastian explains simply. “And I want you to come home. Your mom wants you to come home.”

 

Chris nods thoughtfully. “I figured she was the one who gave you my address,” he chuckles, picking a strand of Sebastian’s hair out of his face and throwing it back into place. “I’m home wherever you are, Sebastian. I’ll follow you.”

 

Sebastian is waiting for his plane when his phone buzzes with a text from Chris. He grins to himself, revelling in the fact that they’re okay now, better even, before opening the message. _Call me when you land!!! Missing you already._

 

He bites his lip because his smile wants to tear apart his cheeks with its size. _is the rest of our relationship going to consistently be this sappy?_ He types and sends.

 

_You’re a brat. I’m reconsidering… Reconsidering done. You’re a cute brat and I still want you. Unfortunately._

 

Sebastian laughs and wants to claw out his heart with how much it simmers in his chest at the affection. He loves Chris so much. _haha… im missing you too._ He adds a little broken heart emoji just as they’re called to board the plane. He types, _getting on the plane. txt u later handsome._

 

He gets onto the plane feeling like a different person from the one that got off it only 24 hours ago.

 

–

 

Sebastian has to sleep in an empty bed the night he gets back to Boston. It was a little difficult when he knew what it was like to sleep beside someone he loved and wake up beside them, almost unable to know his limbs from Chris’s. But it was all worth it when he woke up.

 

**@ChrisEvans: Good to be back! Missed Massachusetts.**

 

He sits up in his bed and smiles. Chris is only a short drive away from him now.

 

**@imsebastianstan: :)**

 

He gets himself cleaned up with a little pep in his step. He decides to tackle the coarse stubble growing on his face. He combs his hair and brushes his teeth and takes a little extra time to put together a proper outfit. He holds up two pairs of jeans and eyes them both, figuring which one is the better option. “Go tight. Gotta go tight,” Sebastian mumbles to himself as he picks his skinnier jeans.

 

He turns up on Chris’s doorstep and knocks. He’s happy to find his boyfriend opening the door and smiling at him, his eyes straying down then back up. Chris whistles and pulls him in for a hug, “You trying to impress my family, kid?” He kisses the side of Sebastian’s head and pulls away but takes both of Seb’s hands in his own. “You look really good. Scared my brother is going to try to steal you from me.”

 

“He’s here?” Sebastian asks. Chris has talked a lot about Scott but Sebastian hasn’t had the chance to meet him yet, their schedules were always off.

 

“God, you are going to leave me for him.”

 

Sebastian laughs and whacks him in his toned stomach, “Christopher!”

 

Chris smiles adoringly at him before pulling him inside and kissing him on the lips this time. “Come meet him. He’s going to love you,” he says.

 

He does.

 

–

 

“An hour right?”

 

“Yeah,” Sebastian answers as he leans into the driver’s window and presses a kiss to Chris’s lips. He has to do it quick unless he wants eyes on them. Chris wanted him to consider having his therapist come to him but Sebastian ultimately decided that he preferred not having that negative energy expelled in his new house. Chris understood.

 

“I’m proud of you, you know?” Chris says with a smile that highlights just that.

 

Sebastian bites his lip and nods, “I know.”

 

They kiss once more when Sebastian realizes he’ll be late to his appointment if he doesn’t start for the door. Chris watches him enter the building before he drives off for an hour.

 

Chris is glad to find that Sebastian doesn’t show a single sign of teariness when he picks him up like planned. Sebastian lets him know that it won’t be the case next time because, “She just wanted to get to know me first, get me to know her so there’s… Trust or something for when the actual stuff starts.” Chris squeezes his thigh and keeps his hand there.

 

“You haven’t been to mine in a while, have you?” Chris asks while they’re stopped at a red light. He lifts and places his sunglasses on his head as he turns his attention to Sebastian, who shakes his head. “Cool. Because… There’s something new. A new addition.”

 

When they get to the house, Chris leads them both inside and sits Sebastian down in the living room. He kisses Sebastian softly before whispering, “Wait here,” and then disappears into the dining room.

 

When he reappears, he’s followed by his sister, who’s looking very exhausted but happy, and he’s holding a tiny baby boy in his arms. Sebastian beams and straightens himself out, ready to hold the baby. But Chris doesn’t want to give him up just yet and takes a seat beside Sebastian with the baby still held to his chest. “Hey, Miles,” he coos. “Want to say hi to Uncle Seb?”

 

“Can you two watch him? I need some sleep,” Chris gives her a thumbs up and waves her off.

 

It’s 20 minutes of Chris and Sebastian just watching the baby and trying not to die because he’s so cute. Then it’s Sebastian on watch because Chris has fallen asleep with Miles cradled safely in his arm. Sebastian has to take a photo. Or three.

 

He doesn’t know how he does it but Chris is always able to feel a camera pointed at him. So he cracks an eye open when Sebastian takes the last photo and smiles to himself as he shuts it. “Taking creepshots, kid?” He mumbles warmly, voice like honey.

 

“Taking the first pictures I’m going to frame in my living room,” Sebastian answers before standing to get himself some water. He bends himself to kiss Chris’s forehead, smiling as Chris moves into it.

 

When he returns to the living room, sipping at his glass of water, he hears Chris murmuring, “–like, you’re cute. But when Seb and I have kids, they’re going to give you a run for your money. So watch your back.”

 

Sebastian snorts, almost choking on his water. “Are you threatening your newborn nephew?” Sebastian asks incredulously as he takes a seat, almost sitting on Chris’s toes, and setting his glass down on a side table.

 

“The kid’s gotta know,” Chris replies. Sebastian giggles and cushions Chris’s knee with his arm to rest his head on it. He narrows his eyes at Chris in thought, the ends of his lips quirking up. “What… What are you thinking about?”

 

“How many kids do you want?”

 

Chris smiles smugly and chuckles, “How many are you willing to bear?” Sebastian goes to gently hit his balls but Chris blocks him and snatches his hand. He intertwines their fingers, careful not to hurt Sebastian’s wrist in the awkward positioning. “I like family. I’ve always imagined… Having a really _big_ family.”

 

“Trying to build an army?” Sebastian jokes before freeing his hand and falling onto Chris in between his legs, the side of his face pressed against one of his pectorals. “Boob,” Sebastian says as he pokes Chris’s muscle, eliciting a giggle.

 

Chris sighs happily and says, “I feel good.” He kisses Sebastian’s head and then Miles’s.

 

Sebastian bites his lip and blurts out, “Three kids. I always imagined having three.”

 

Chris is startled by spontaneous answer but his face softens into an affectionate smile. “Three?” Sebastian nods. “Okay, three,” Chris coos gently before leaning in and kissing him. Sebastian smiles into it, feeling like the room is glowing but maybe it’s solely Chris and how he shines like the sun.

 

It’s probably a little too early in their relationship to be discussing kids, it’s probably just the honeymoon phase, but Sebastian thinks he’d like that. Now and in a few years when they’re actually ready. He’s only 24 and having children is a goal of his, something he’s wanted more than to join the NFL and win a Super Bowl. But he’s still young and Chris only turned 30 last month. They have time to settle and really figure things out.

 

He winces as the realization sets in, “I missed your birthday.”

 

Chris frowns at him and clicks his tongue, “Don’t worry about it, Sebby. I was away… And there wasn’t much you could do besides send me a text, which in itself isn’t too terrific.” He snorts before adding, “I wasn’t expecting you to appear, bursting out of a cake or anything. It’s okay.”

 

“Let me make it up to you,” Sebastian says, adjusting the way he’s lying on top of Chris before kissing just under his jaw. “I’ll clear my schedule, you clear yours, we’ll spend a few days together.”

 

Chris’s sister returns, thankful for her hour nap but anxious to be with her baby again. Chris hands Miles over easily and moves into that free space to give Sebastian more leeway. It allows for better cuddling, a major plus. But Chris thinks he’d like more privacy. “Wanna sneak up to my room?” He whispers huskily into Sebastian’s ear with no actual intention of anything.

 

Sebastian gravitates towards the piano. “Want to play me a song?” He asks as he slips his fingers over the keycover.

 

Chris smiles at him before taking a seat at the bench. Sebastian leans forward and wraps his arms around Chris’s shoulders from behind, pressing his chin onto his shoulder to watch him finger the keys. He fleetingly thinks _he should be fingering something else though_ and blushes at himself.

 

As Chris plays, Sebastian noses up his neck and presses his lips against his jaw, softly sucking one spot before moving to suck another. He moves back down his neck and drags his bottom lip over his pulse, feeling it quicken. He smirks to himself before gently dragging his teeth over the junction of his shoulder and neck.

 

Chris shudders, making Sebastian feel very pleased with himself. “C-can’t play when you’re doing that, Seb,” he complains but Sebastian knows it’s not really a complaint, not with the way the crotch of his pants is beginning to strain.

 

“Play with me instead,” Sebastian replies silkily into his ear. “Want to do that?”

 

Chris would be a liar if he said he hasn’t spent a good fraction of his days thinking about the way he would make love to Sebastian but he’d throw out those thoughts because it made him feel wrong, stuck on his decision that he’d wait for Sebastian to show interest in having sex first before trying anything. He didn’t know how deep his trauma cut, he wanted to tread lightly and keep Sebastian happy and healthy. That was his priority.

 

Sebastian is showing interest, and Chris himself is very interested. He’s seen Sebastian naked but now he’s being invited to touch him and make him feel good. Chris’s mouth waters.

 

“I want you on the bed. Is that good with you?” He asks as he throws his legs over the other side of the bench, spinning to face Sebastian who is nodding. He cups his face and kisses him on the lips. “Get on the bed,” he orders.

 

Sebastian crawls onto the foam mattress, momentarily thanking Past Chris for getting something without springs so he doesn’t have to worry that the soundproofing won’t completely cover the screaming coils of steel. He lies on his back and spreads out his limbs, resembling a starfish. Chris giggles at him before getting his hands on the hem of his blue shirt.

 

“Chris,” Sebastian stops him, sitting up. “I-I want to undress you.”

 

Chris sees the diffidence written on his face and he smiles lovingly at him before getting onto the bed, knee walking over to Sebastian. “Just have to ask, baby. Don’t be afraid to ask,” he hums reassuringly, taking Sebastian’s hands and bringing them to the end of his shirt for encouragement. Before Sebastian can pull upward, Chris deletes the space between their lips and kisses him. “Just want to tell you I love you.”

 

“Is that the truth or are you just saying that because you’re going to be in my ass in a few minutes?” Sebastian jests crudely before capturing his lips in another kiss as he goes to undo Chris’s belt instead.

 

Chris raises a curious eyebrow and tilts his head, “Maaaybe a bit of both.” He laughs before kissing Sebastian again. “But I do love you. I love you a lot, Sebastian.”

 

“I love you too,” Sebastian returns it easily because it’s a truth he’s known for a while. He loves Chris, in and out. Together, they both take off Chris’s shirt and toss it aside. “You have lube right? I haven’t… Done anything in awhile,” he admits.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris replies as he pops the button of his pants but he’s watching Sebastian, lying there patiently and looking beautiful. He lets go of his pants with a huff and kisses him again, forcing him onto his back. “I need to get my mouth on you. God, Sebastian.”

 

Chris lifts his shirt up his body and kisses his toned tummy tenderly before circling his nipple with his tongue, rewarded by the soft squeaks Sebastian gives out and the hand playing in his hair. He moves downward again. He pulls his jeans down an inch to get more access to his hipbone then promptly begins to suck a bruise into it. Chris likes his boy mottled. It drives him a little crazy that Sebastian likes it too.

 

“Lets– lets get these off,” Sebastian breathes as he uselessly paws at his own jeans. Chris kisses the bruise on his hip one more time before yanking on his jeans, Sebastian squealing as he takes him with it.

 

Chris laughs and works a little more carefully. “Sorry, baby,” he says as he unbuttons and slides his jeans down his legs. He throws the pants off to the side and plays with the elastic band of Sebastian’s tight black boxer briefs before dragging his lips down his strong thighs. He notices the way Sebastian’s leg hair gets sparser further up his legs, practically nonexistent at the top of his toned thighs, and he groans, “I love your thighs.”

 

Sebastian whines with desperate need. “Take off your pants,” he says. As Chris gets to doing that, Sebastian sheds his shirt and gets to his knees to kiss him raunchily in the center of the bed. Chris runs his large palms down his back and squeezes his ass to his heart’s content. Sebastian pulls away, lips already a sexy red and plumb, and he begs, “Please, please, Chris. Need you.”

 

Chris smiles, licks at Sebastian’s bottom lip, and then says, “Lay down.”

 

Sebastian follows his orders as Chris gets off the bed to rummage through his drawers. Sebastian huffs, “Probably would’ve asked you to go in dry so you wouldn’t have to be so far away.”

 

“It’ll take a second, kid,” Chris chuckles as he finally finds his bottle of lube tucked away in a pair of socks he doesn’t wear. He even finds a stash of condoms, feeling lucky to find they’re not expired.

 

He tosses their supplies on the bed and Sebastian picks them up. “Oh, large,” he whispers as he waves the condom around in his fingers. “Always knew you had a big dick but a part of me wanted to believe maybe you stuffed. Just because you’re too perfect.”

 

Chris laughs before crawling onto the bed and pinning Sebastian under him, kissing him messily. “I don’t like to brag,” Chris says.

 

“I know,” Sebastian replies, “and I dig that.”

 

Chris giggles. He stays there for a moment, watching Sebastian watch him. He doesn’t remember ever being so calm and happy during sex, laughing even. He’s not a teenage virgin having his first time but he tends to worry about his performance, about giving as much as he’s receiving. But with Sebastian, he’s not worried. He’s just having fun.

 

“I’m going to finger you open now. Is that okay with you?”

 

“Yes. I’ve been dying for you to start,” Sebastian says.

 

“Let me know if you don’t like something. Okay, Seb?” Sebastian nods.  Chris lifts his chin with his index finger and thumb so they lock eyes, “Words.”

 

“Yes, I’ll tell you,” Sebastian shudders as the words just fall out of him, feeling heat in his belly at Chris ordering him around but all with the intention of keeping him safe. “I trust you.”

 

Chris sits back on his legs and grabs the elastic of Sebastian’s underwear, slipping them down until they’re completely off and his semi-hard dick is laying against the small swell of his stomach, looking pretty and pink as more blood flows to it. “God, you’re a fucking dream, baby,” Chris sighs, drinking him in. He takes his cock in his hand and gives it a few strokes, watching it start to leak immediately at the attention. Jesus, Chris is so lucky.

 

He sucks the head of Sebastian’s cock in his mouth, tasting the saltiness of his skin and precome on his tongue as he blindly reaches for their lube. He pops open the cap and squeezes some out onto his fingers, coating them generously. Sebastian nibbles on his bottom lip as he waits in anticipation.

 

“Fuck,” Sebastian hisses as the cool slick on his fingers meets his entrance. Slowly, Chris’s finger delves deeper into him, discovering his velvety, tight heat. Chris gets to his knuckle before he curls his finger. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Seb mewls, arching his back, as his prostate is rubbed. “I love you. God, I love you.”

 

“Is that the truth or just because I have a finger in your ass?” Chris mocks him.

 

Sebastian lets out a breathless laugh before saying, “Shut up and kiss me, Christopher.”

 

Chris kisses him, tasting his mouth and feeling his tongue against his own, keeping it slow and unrushed. No one’s going to bother them. They have all the time in the world.

 

Sebastian is distracted but still pleasantly startles at the feeling of Chris putting another finger inside of him, stretching his rim and making it burn, not enough to hurt but enough to feel really good. It makes Sebastian grab Chris’s arm and whimper, “One more. One more, please.”

 

Chris hums against his lips before nudging his ring finger alongside his other two. Sebastian throws his head back into the pillows and lets out a strained breath of pleasure. “Feel good?” Chris asks, self-satisfied.

 

“Mhm. _Da_ . So good,” he keens brokenly, languages becoming harder to differentiate with how his body is being strummed. He chokes as Chris twists and spreads his fingers inside of him, working his hole so deliciously. He can’t take much more, he knows this and Chris knows it. He cries out, “ _Te doresc._ Need– _”_

 

“Okay, okay,” Chris soothes him as he slips out his fingers and watches Sebastian’s hole clench around nothing. “Seb, can you… take out the condom? My fingers are kind of lubey.”

 

Sebastian laughs, eyes still clouded with arousal, as he nods and reaches for it. He carefully tears the foil as Chris strips out of his boxers, his cock rigid and stood proudly. Sebastian just observes it, estimates the girth and knows that exact numbers don’t matter. His hole is still going to have to stretch around its thickness. He feels a zap of heat all the way down to his toes at the idea.

 

Chris takes the condom from him and slides it down his long shaft, pinching the reservoir tip. “Ready?” He asks softly as he hovers over Sebastian, his hands at his left and right. Sebastian nods. “Words, baby.”

 

“Yes.” Chris takes his cock in his hand and aligns the head with Sebastian’s hole. He’s about to start pushing himself in when Sebastian places a hand on his shoulder and says, “Stop.”

 

Chris does so, immediately, “You okay? Is it too much?”

 

“No, no,” he denies before stretching out to get his pants and pull out his phone.

 

Chris’s worried expression melts away and a smile replaces it as SexyBack plays out of the phone’s speaker. “Unbelievable,” he says fondly.

 

Sebastian bubbles out a giggle, eyes glittering with mischief, “Told you we were going to give you good memories.”

 

“I should _spank_ you for that,” Chris jokes as he grabs Sebastian’s legs, pushing them back to his chest.

 

“Mm, maybe you should because I’m into that,” Sebastian hooks his own arms around his knees so Chris isn’t doing all the work. Chris’s eyes wander to his exposed hole and he licks his thumb before pressing it into the hot flesh there, Sebastian shuts his eyes and shivers at the simple touch.

 

“Christ, you’re going to be the death of me,” Chris groans, voice dripping with lust and desire. He holds Sebastian’s hip with one hand and his cock with the other, pressing the head against Sebastian’s loosened hole but still finding resistance. “Relax, baby,” he says before sucking on Sebastian’s bottom lip and kissing him. Sebastian trembles and exhales sharply against Chris’s mouth as the head of his cock breaches him. He lets go of his legs and wraps them around Chris instead.

 

Chris slips his arms under Sebastian’s back and holds him as he eases himself further into his ass, each inch more gratifying than the last. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Sebastian blabbers into his shoulder as Chris bottoms out, making his eyes water and the stupid fucking song playing in the background drone out. He’s only aware of Chris and himself becoming one, unable to discern their body heat, unable to discern their heartbeats.

 

His life since age 14 was feeling like his body was a crime scene, one that he could never leave. But right now, he’s with Chris and he knows there’s no place he’s safer. He doesn’t want to leave his body, wants to stay in it and feel everything Chris lets him feel.

 

Chris kisses down the middle strip of his chest as he finally pulls out until only his head is tucked inside of Sebastian and then snaps his hips back into him. Sebastian cries out, tears starting to gush from his eyes as his body is hit with wave after wave of heat, and he can’t stop himself from digging his nails into Chris’s back. “H-how are you feeling?” Chris grunts out, kissing away Sebastian’s tears.

 

“Feel so full, Chris,” he hiccups. “Feel so g-good.”

 

Chris slides out his arms from underneath Seb and stands on his knees, lifting Sebastian’s hips so they’re still slotted together. Sebastian bites the curve of his thumb as the angle changes into one much better. Chris watches the way his cock just weeps, creating a mess on his stomach.

 

“Seb, baby, baby,” Chris moans. “Do you want to sit on my lap? Want to ride me? Put those strong thighs to work?”

 

Sebastian nods, using the strength in his core to lift himself off of his back. Chris falls to his ass as Sebastian brackets his lap between his thighs and rolls his body, trying to figure out what feels best. He doesn’t come to a single decision because it all feels good, watching the way Chris gives himself up feels good. He hears his cock hitting his abdomen with every rise and fall, Chris’s tiny grunts escaping his lips, and the hot sound of their sticky skin slapping. It’s hedonism, and his mind drifts away from him as he dives deeper into it.

 

Chris kisses along his jaw then sucks on his neck until it’s purple, biting gently on his pulse. Sebastian tilts his head back, baring more of his throat to Chris to mark up as much as he pleases. Chris takes a deep, rough breath and looks up at Sebastian.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as he topples them over so he’s on top again. Sebastian’s blush runs from the tear tracks on his cheeks to his collarbones, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and eyes blown with ardor. He’s fucking incandescent and the most beautiful thing Chris has ever seen, it makes him ache. “You’re everything, Sebastian. You’re mine. You’re mine and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

Sebastian gasps as he feels a pull in his lower stomach, he bites down on Chris’s shoulder to stifle his noises as his seed spills out all over his chest, painting it in streaks of white. He tightens around Chris’s cock as his orgasm overwhelms him and it’s enough to have Chris shooting into the condom, still buried deep inside of Sebastian. Chris foolishly kisses Sebastian when his first priority should probably be regulating his breathing but he’ll choose Sebastian over his own life every time.

 

“I love you,” Sebastian says for possibly the umpteenth time that night because he doesn’t know how many times he said it out loud and just in his head.

 

“I love you too,” Chris pants, wiping away the rest of Sebastian’s tears before pulling his softening cock out of him.

 

“Did I do okay?” Sebastian asks meekly before he chews on his bottom lip.

 

Chris smiles at Sebastian and peppers his face with kisses, making him giggle and squirm beneath him. “You did amazing, kid,” he says.

 

“I didn’t last long,” he points out, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

 

“Neither did I,” Chris reminds him with another kiss to his forehead. “And if you’re really worried about that, don’t be because… We have the rest of our lives to practice. Soon we’ll be getting world records like ‘Couple That Can Fuck The Longest Time Before Emptying Their Balls.’”

 

Sebastian laughs. He runs through Chris’s words again, foregoing the world record title and focusing on the easy promise of being together for the rest of their lives. It’s easy for him to imagine, easy for him to know that he’ll work for it to become reality. He’s lost in his thoughts that he’s not sure what Chris is saying now, he just sees his lips moving and his eyes glimmering with mirth, and he loves him.

 

“I want to grow old with you,” Sebastian breathes, taking Chris by surprise. “God, is that crazy to say since we’ve only been dating for a few weeks?”

 

“Maybe,” Chris replies. “But then I’m the crazier one… Because I’ve been thinking the same thing for months.”

 

“You don’t have to one-up me, Christopher,” Sebastian deadpans before his lips curl into a goofy smile and he’s kissing the life out of him.

 

–

 

Chris has known Sebastian for over a year but since the night he confided in him about his younger days and the things he went through, he’s been able to learn a lot more about him. Before, Sebastian would avoid all topics that talking about would run him into brick walls. But now when he talks to Chris, he’s able to talk about anything and if he ever finds a detail that makes him want to stop, he does and Chris understands. He doesn’t feel the pressure to explain himself anymore because Chris knows and it’s a relief.

 

Sebastian is also able to find out a lot more about Chris through the swapping of similar stories and it’s nice. Sebastian can’t remember ever being so happy, which is why it sucks to think that he’ll be without Chris.

 

He’s going to have to let Chris go for a few months to film, which is annoying but he’s contractually obligated to make these movies. He knows that every reminder of his several picture contract gives Chris anxiety that he isn’t a competent enough actor for it, and it gives Sebastian anxiety too but for other reasons because he has nothing but complete faith in Chris. He’ll just have to learn to be okay with Chris not being within arm’s reach, and he’s already dreading it. Chris tries to make the most of their days together before he has to leave to New York, which isn’t a terrible distance away, but he’s scheduled to film in Ohio and New Mexico as well. It’s his last free hours before a car comes to pick him up and drive him to airport, and they’re spending those precious hours kissing and rutting against each other on the couch in only their boxers.

 

Since their first time, Chris hasn’t been able to get Sebastian off of him and it’s nothing short of incredible. They’re like horny teenagers, using almost every chance to get each other off. Chris feels young again. “Oh, like you’re so old,” Sebastian quips, going breathless. But he understands it. He feels like he’s getting his teen years back, when he should’ve been a little reckless and having fun.

 

Sebastian lets out a choked breath and Chris hits his head on the armrest as they both reach their climax, warm stickiness spilling into their boxers. Sebastian swipes away the hair sticking to his forehead and gives Chris a big grin. “Shit, my head,” Chris groans with a smile.

 

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” Sebastian says, laying his head on Chris’s chest. He feels him nose at his hair and kiss the top of his head.

 

“Well… You start conditioning tomorrow and preseason starts soon, you’ll be focused on football. The months will pass and I’ll be back before you know it,” Chris assures him. “And our first date when I get back is going to be fucking Disney World, my little Sebastian. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

 

Sebastian holds up his hands and mimics crab claws. Chris feels himself burning with adoration. He wishes he could tell the whole world that this is the man he loves, could kiss him without looking twice, love him proudly and fearlessly. But that’s still not the world they live in. They’re content though, Sebastian is happy, and that’s all that matters to Chris.

 

“You should get in the shower before you have to leave,” Sebastian suggests. “Dried come isn’t nice to sit in during a flight.”

 

“You know that from personal experience?”

 

“Well…,” Sebastian trails off, a playful glint in his eye. He pats Chris’s chest, “C’mon. Let’s shower before I have to go weeks without you.”

 

Sebastian doesn’t want to let go when the time finally comes for Chris to leave. He’s holding onto Chris and feels close to crying but he does his best to keep the tears at bay because he doesn’t want to sadden him right before he leaves. “Make sure to eat and get groceries when you need to and… Don’t miss any of your therapy sessions, okay?” Sebastian nods. “Words, baby.”

 

“Okay,” Sebastian squeaks. When they pull away, he notices that Chris’s eyes are glassy too. He giggles wetly, “I feel like we cry a lot for two grown men.”

 

“Probably,” Chris replies. “Only because I love everything so much… And I love you most of all.”

 

They kiss once more but Sebastian makes sure it isn’t too long a kiss. “I’m holding you up,” Sebastian admits sadly but he smiles. “You should finally get going.”

 

“Call me, okay?” Chris says before kissing him fervently.

 

Sebastian has to push him out the door and says, “I love you. Now go save America or something.”

 

“Okay. And we’re facetiming on your birthday, Stan!”

 

He’s fine when Chris leaves, goes about his day without a bump. But when he gets into bed and feels the emptiness of it reflect inside himself, he can’t help but cry and beg time to pass faster.

 

–

 

Sebastian removes his helmet, wiping away the sweat on his face and smiling through his panting as his teammates pat him on the back. They’ve just won the first game of season against the Miami Dolphins, which makes him feel good after losing the last two games of the preseason. He’s aiming for another Super Bowl.

 

Once he’s got his breathing under control and the locker room has begun to clear out, he fishes out his phone from his duffel bag and calls Chris. “Hey, Sebby,” Chris answers cheerfully.

 

“Hey, watch the game?” Sebastian asks as he stands on one foot and then jumps to the other foot to busy the rest of his body as he’s on the phone.

 

“Yeah. So proud of you for winning. How are you feeling?”

 

“Feeling good, but I’m missing you a lot. Wish I could share this victory with you and hug you. You know it’s been 4 weeks since I’ve last touched you? I actually feel myself dying,” Sebastian dramatizes, smiling when Chris chuckles deeply into the phone.

 

“Can’t really enjoy a hug from you if you’re dead,” Chris replies.

 

“Well, come home and hug me while I’m still alive then,” Sebastian says as he hears footstep. He looks over hoping to find Chris but remembers that it’s an extremely naive hope when he sees only Logan Mankins walking over to the showers. But then he feels someone closing in on him and he spins around on his heels.

 

“Okay,” Chris replies, standing there with sandy blond hair, stubble just beginning to grey his jaw, and just inches between them.

 

Sebastian drops his phone and says, “I think I’m having a stroke.”

 

Chris shoves his phone into his pocket and pulls Sebastian into his arms before he even thinks about falling over. “Gotta get that hug in before that happens then, don’t I?” He jokes.

 

Sebastian looks up at him, unsure if he’s allowed to kiss him in the locker room where they’re sure to be seen by other plays. But he knows that he wants to, that they both deserve to after a month apart. Sebastian had to daydream about his lips and he was beginning to worry that he was forgetting how they felt. He told this to his therapist and she told him it was okay that he was forgetting minor details about something like Chris’s lips and though it was distressing, Chris would eventually return to him.

 

He knew she was right but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that Chris was slipping away from him. He’s had a difficult life and for a good portion of it had the bleak conclusion that nothing in his life was good or would stay good forever. It didn’t take much for that idea to start poisoning his brain again and start to obscure his views. He spent some days having to convince himself that Chris was real.

 

He kisses him. Now he feels silly for the days where Chris’s existence was an uncertainty because he’s here, he’s solid under Sebastian’s touch, he’s warm. And his lips, _his lips._ They’re soft and pillowy, so welcoming to Sebastian’s tongue. He parts them with ease and gives himself a taste of Chris’s mouth, a quick one because he doesn’t want to put on a show for the team. He’s just getting his necessary dose, and once they’re in the privacy of Sebastian’s home, then he’ll take him apart and memorize him again.

 

“Missed you,” Sebastian whispers against his lips, already drunk off Chris to the point of recklessly not caring that they could be watched. But Chris, his sweet and collected Chris who is definitely more of the adult in this relationship in both attitude and age, isn’t worried about it either so maybe they’re okay. Sebastian trusts him to be the conscious one when he isn’t.

 

“Missed you too, baby boy,” Chris coos sweetly into his ear. “Wanna get out of here?”

 

“Yes, please,” Sebastian keens.

 

Chris is reading in bed when Sebastian exits the bathroom, hair damp and teeth brushed. Chris is covered head to toe in his pajamas but Sebastian is still nude, thinks he’s probably going to stay that way since he has a boyfriend to keep him warm tonight. He rolls onto the bed until his body is stopped by another. Chris casts him a glance, smiling fondly to himself before putting in his bookmark and tossing his novel onto the nightstand. “C’mere,” he mumbles as he gets his arm around Sebastian and sniffs at his shampooed hair. “How’s your schedule looking tomorrow?”

 

Sebastian smiles at him, knowing exactly what he’s hinting at, “I’m free. Why?”

 

“Disney World,” he replies. “We’re going to Disney World.”

 

**@ChrisEvans: So excited to go to Disney!!!**

 

–

 

They both don sunglasses and caps. Sebastian thinks they look like undercover spies, “Mr. And Mr. Smith or something.” He’s secretly proud of himself for having watched that movie because Chris has given him a lot of shit for not getting around to watching certain movies. “Will people approach us here?” Sebastian asks since Chris is more of the expert.

 

“I’ve rarely been approached by people here. They don’t really recognize me,” he replies as they walk with their assigned Disney employee following. “Or they just don’t care.”

 

“But you’re Captain America now,” Sebastian points out to him, always so playful when he reminds him. Chris thinks that Sebastian has come to see him in the newer, brighter suit they put him in for The Avengers every time he thinks of it, which explains his giggles. “But I guess... superheroes are brave and take risks so.”

 

He takes Chris’s hand in his and feels his pulse quicken. But Chris is there, holding back just as tight and sure.

 

Chris asks their guide to take a photo of them stood in front of the castle in Magic Kingdom, chest to chest with Sebastian and beaming in the direction of the camera. He thanks her and looks at the photo, smiling at how happy Sebastian looks. All that’s missing is a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head so that’s his next order of business.

 

“I feel like your son or something,” Sebastian yawns as Chris fits another cap on his head of hair, two Mickey Mouse ears at the top. Chris looks pleased which only makes Sebastian pout more. “Am I going to have to call you daddy at some point in this trip?”

 

“Do you want to?” Chris asks without faltering. He’s getting better at taking what Sebastian gives.

 

Sebastian narrows his eyes in consideration, making Chris chuckle at him, before he mumbles, “Maybe.”

 

Chris kisses his forehead with another giggle before grabbing him by his bicep and pulling him towards the till. “C’mon. We still have to get your name sewn into it,” Chris says.

 

“What the fuck.”

 

Their guide, her name is Jessi, hears all of their inappropriate comments but they have a thing about not disclosing celebrity information, such as Captain America, Chris Evans, being involved with New England Patriots Quarterback, Sebastian Stan. But aside from that, Chris cares about her comfort and asks if they’re pushing it. She blushes and waves the question away, “You’re alright. I’ve dealt with worse.”

 

In and out of rides, he and Sebastian get to know her. She’s the same age as Sebastian, her birthday even being in August too. She’s just come back from her trip to Mexico to see the rest of her family and she tells them stories about it. Chris and Sebastian really like her.

 

She gets them to the front of the line at Space Mountain. Chris hopes Sebastian really likes this one. It might take a while to recondition him but he’s made it one of his goals to make Sebastian fall in love with space again. He wants to release all the things that Sebastian loved from Thompson’s evil clutches.

 

The name of the ride is self explanatory but to be safe, he informs Sebastian, “There’s like… Stars everywhere in this ride. It’s cool.”

 

Sebastian looks at him, one end of his lips curling up and his eyes going soft at him. He nods and wraps his arms around Chris’s waist for a moment before they’re ordered to get into the first car.

 

“Can barely get this bar down,” Sebastian says when they’re seated.

 

“Probably because of these beautiful things,” Chris replies as he reaches over and squeezes one of Sebastian’s thick thighs. “I’m okay with going out like this though. Always figured your thighs would lead me right to Heaven.”

 

Sebastian snorts and rests his head on Chris’s shoulder as everyone else moves into the cars behind them. “Me too,” Sebastian sighs happily. Then they’re off.

 

He holds Chris’s hand tightly because he’s scared, not of the stars but himself. He’s finally in proper recovery and he’s been feeling good but besides his own internal thoughts, he’s been able to avoid external things that remind him of Gary. He’s worried that this will trigger him and send him back to square one. He’s worried that he’s going to be backhanded with the fact that he’s not actually getting better.

 

He pushes that oppressive thought out as much as he can, concerned he’s only setting himself up for doom. He grounds himself in the present. He’s at Disney World, everyone’s happiest place on Earth, and he’s next to Chris, his personal happiest place on Earth.

 

Something his therapist noted, something he’s also noted but pretended wasn’t intentional, is that he’s purposely pessimistic, keeping himself at the bottom so he never has to worry about crashing. But that was never going to help him achieve what he wanted. He had to start being a little more positive about his chance at recovery and everything that came with that journey, and any amount of positivity he could scrounge up was enough just as long as he tried. Baby steps.

 

Space Mountain is a dark ride with specks littering the blackness, gleaming like the stars they’re supposed to be. And it’s fast too. Sebastian feels the thrill and beauty of it inside of him, feels nostalgia lining his heart because he remembers loving space so much and how much he had to bury that love. He wants to dig it back up. He can’t close his eyes, and then he isn’t sure if his eyes are just trying to fight off the dryness or if he’s crying. He laughs in tiny bursts and feels fine. He feels completely fine.

 

As they pull in to stop, Chris looks over and adjusts the Mickey Mouse ears on Sebastian’s head and assesses him, “You alright?”

 

Sebastian gives him a teary smile and nods, “I feel good.”

 

Chris smiles lovingly at him and has to mute the voice in his brain yelling at him to kiss Sebastian. His lips are devastatingly pink like sweet cotton candy, he really has to fight off his urge. And later in their Disney day when Sebastian actually purchases the sugary treat like he can read Chris’s mind, he can’t stand his ground anymore. He kisses him in the evening light and the cotton melts between both of their mouths, sticky and sweet.

 

They make it to their hotel at 1 AM and Chris is quick to get them both into bed, kicking off his shoes and wrapping his arms around Sebastian. He’s been starved of proper touch and blatant affection all day. He kisses him, moaning into his mouth and combing through his hair with his fingers. “Love you,” he mumbles before slotting their lips together again.

 

“I love you too,” Sebastian replies. He stops kissing back and Chris looks at him with concern. “Hey, I want to talk.”

 

Chris tries to calm the anxiety that strikes him at those words. It would really suck if Sebastian broke up with him at Disney World. And really unlikely, he reasons with himself. “Okay,” he says as he lets go of Sebastian and sits up. “What’s going on, Seb?”

 

Sebastian sighs as he sits on his legs. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes the way his real smiles do. “You mentioned that your legal buddy would look into… Into my problem, and I think I want to do this sooner than later,” Sebastian says, punctuating himself with a gulp.

 

“Okay, Seb. Okay,” Chris coos gently as he tucks a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. “Any reason why?”

 

“I’m scared it’s going to break me,” Sebastian explains with a solemn chuckle, pinching the wrinkles in his jeans nervously. “And I figured I’d want to do it now so it’s easier to build myself back up.”

 

That explanation doesn’t make Chris feel good but he accepts it. “Okay. I’ll call her when we get home,” he says.

 

Sebastian looks him over and smiles, really smiles, before tackling him into the mattress. He lets out a little strained breath as he curls into Chris’s side, “Already home.”

 

Chris grins to himself before placing a kiss to his forehead, coming away with a frown. He can’t do it. “Hey, Seb. You know… You’re strong and resilient. You can build yourself back up from anything,” he says. He kisses his forehead again. “Know you can.”

 

–

 

Sebastian tries to keep his distance from knowing all the details and asks Chris to keep them from him too. Chris knows it must be terrifying, like standing with his toes over a cliff and wondering which way the wind will blow him. So he tries to be there as much as he can, holding him and keeping him safe.

 

The news, or ‘scandal’ as many channels are choosing to say, breaks a few days into November. By some miracle, Chris is able to work with everyone to get him home to Sebastian to be his rock through it. He expects it to really take a toll on Sebastian because he’s already not having the greatest of days. They lost the game against the New York Giants, and he knows when they lose games, Gary and his words are the only thing going through his head.

 

Sebastian is curled on the couch, wrapped up in Chris’s shower robe, and resting his head against his shoulder. He’s already sniffling just seeing Gary’s photo appear on the screen. Chris tries to comfort him with tiny kisses to the top of his head but it’s hardly results in any success. “Today Gary Thompson, assistant coach at USC, has been indicted on 52 counts of sex crimes against young boys,” one of the anchors announces and Sebastian uncontrollably chokes up, hiding his face in Chris’s chest.

 

Chris already knows all of the specifics because he’s been keeping tabs on it so he knew. He knew that they weren’t the first people going to investigate Gary, that other victims have been trying to get enough pieces together to put up a solid case for years, and he knew it was going to hurt Sebastian to find out he wasn’t the only boy that Gary chose to ruin, that no part of him would be comforted by the fact he wasn’t alone. How could he be?

 

Chris shuts off the TV when they move onto the next story.

 

Sebastian shoots up from the couch and wraps his arms around himself, running his hands up and down his arms as he paces. Chris gets to his feet and approaches him, “Sebastian.”

 

His hands reach out for him and Sebastian visibly goes rigid. Chris does as well. “I-I don’t want to be touched. Not right now,” Sebastian says.

 

Chris retracts and drops his hands. He sighs and asks gently, “What’s going on, Seb? Want to tell me what you’re feeling?”

 

“Disgusting,” Sebastian answers without a beat. He runs the tips of his fingers over his cheeks to smooth away the tears on his face and takes a deep breath. He exhales with a dark chuckle and another stubborn tear escapes his eye. “A part of me… is sad that there are other guys like me, maybe younger, that he preyed on. No one deserves to be treated like that. And– and another part of me,” he laughs almost maniacally and it sends chills through Chris’s spine. He clears his throat and his twistedly joyful face disappears, replaced by a confused one, “And the other part of me hates that I wasn’t his only one. I’m… I was just another boy in his long list. What does that say about me, Chris?”

 

Chris shakes his head at the snarl in his question, “No, no, Sebastian.” He nears him but doesn’t touch. “You said it yourself when you told me. It’s… It’s Stockholm Syndrome. It makes sense that you’d feel that way but it doesn’t say _anything_ about you, okay?”

 

Sebastian’s breath hitches as he stares at Chris. About five months and what seems like a hundred nights similar to this one, Chris hasn’t crumbled. Not in the slightest. He hasn’t left either when he has every reason to and every chance to. He’s the picture of bravery and strength and love and everything Sebastian wishes he could be.

 

“I love you,” he whimpers before walking into him. Chris wraps his arms around Sebastian instinctively, holding him close to his chest, and slowly rocks him side to side. It’s relief to feel Sebastian against him, that he isn’t running anymore.

 

“I love you too,” Chris says. “Let’s get you to bed, baby.”

 

–

 

Chris gets Sebastian to call his therapist everyday since the news comes out. Chris does what he can but feels uncomfortable taking the reigns because he doesn’t consider himself a professional. So, therapists are good. He calls his own sometimes.

 

He thinks Sebastian’s feeling better, he can never really know. Sebastian is good at hiding things but Chris is optimistic. Maybe a part of him just wants to believe that so he doesn’t feel dread and guilt weighing down his body when he has to leave to wrap up filming. It’s only two more weeks and then he’s all Sebastian’s again. They’ll be okay. Sebastian will be okay.

 

He leaves him with the same gentle reminders, “Call me if you need me. And call your therapist.”

 

“Okay, Dad,” Sebastian groans petulantly but Chris smiles at him and kisses his forehead. Sebastian traps him in his arms and holds tight. Chris doesn’t want to leave, can feel his body beginning to reject all actions that remove him from Sebastian’s hold, but he has to go.

 

It’s been over a year since they’ve met and they’ve overcome the shit they went through (mostly at Sebastian’s hand), but Sebastian still hasn’t learned how to feel okay saying goodbye. Even if it’s with the promise of coming back, he’s never been good at watching Chris leave.

 

“Wait,” Sebastian says, grabbing him by his jacket. He sprints to his bedroom and returns with a gift in his hands. He places his gaudy Super Bowl ring in Chris’s palm, making his eyes go wide. “Take this… I know it’s only two weeks but take it. And… show it off to Robert Downey Jr., okay?”

 

Chris giggles. “Definitely,” he replies before leaning in and kissing Sebastian sweetly. He leaves after putting the ring on and another goodbye.

 

He stares at the shut door while he bites on this thumb, unsure of what to do now that he’s gone. Luckily, it’s decided for him when his phone vibrates, lighting up on the table in the living room. Training.

 

–

 

During their break, Chris is able to wrangle everyone in front of the TV. They’ve only missed a few minutes of the beginning of the game against the New York Jets. “None of us are even Patriots fans,” RDJ says.

 

“You are today,” Chris replies as he watches the screen, looking around for his boyfriend. His face immediately brightens when he sees that #17 jersey. “Isn’t he great?”

 

“They’re just walking to the line of scrimmage,” Jeremy points out.

 

“But he’s doing it great!” Hemsworth exclaims for Chris, jokingly. But it’s exactly what he was going to say until he beat him to it. He just really loves Seb and takes pride in him being a great quarterback.

 

The cast and crew all try to rib him for the way he sends little texts to Sebastian every chance he gets and how he wears the Super Bowl ring whenever he isn’t in front of a camera but he’s just too aware that his love for Sebastian is all encompassing and not something he ever wants to give up. He has no room to be embarrassed.

 

Chris takes a picture of the cast watching the game, Robert being the only one unamused and with a middle finger up. He thinks it’s great.

 

**@ChrisEvans: Watching the game with the Avengers! Robert is secretly a Patriots fan.**

 

They’re incredible and when they win, Chris can’t help but stand from his seat and cheer, “Yes! Yes! Fuck yes!”

 

Robert shakes his head and says, “Please… Please save the enthusiasm for your boyfriend. We don’t need a preview of what happens in the bedroom.”

 

“Hey! Speak for yourself,” Hemsworth replies as he takes a sip from his drink, glancing around the room over the rim of his cup. Chris guffaws louder than anyone else and walks over to Hemsworth to hi-five him.

 

They’re all called to set shortly after that.

 

Chris rolls into his hotel bed with his phone to his ear, grinning as Sebastian asks, “You made them watch the game?”

 

He shrugs even though Sebastian can’t see it, “Eh, they should be used to it by now.” He remembers then that he’s never actually told Sebastian that the games he doesn’t watch sitting in the Gillette stadium by himself, he watches on the TV with the Avengers. He just thought it was implied but the way Sebastian reacts says he didn’t get the message. He’s adorable and Chris hears the bashfulness in his voice, just wishes he could see it too. “I miss you so much, Seb. How are you doing?” He asks, moving away from talking about anyone else.

 

“I miss you too, darling,” Sebastian replies with a little chuckle. “And I’m missing half of me but I’m feeling good.”

 

–

 

Then he’s angry.

 

“He can’t just fucking say that,” Sebastian seethes into the phone as he paces furiously around his living room. It’s been a week since the indictment, Gary was released on a $150,000 bail a few days later, and now he’s broken his silence in a phone interview. Every word he spoke was all bullshit. He wasn’t ‘horsing’ around with the boys at the center or taking innocent showers with them. He was hurting them. He was hurting Sebastian. “I want to fucking kill him.”

 

Chris shares the sentiment but lacks the capacity to go through with murder and would never want to put Sebastian in such a morally dicey situation. But god, he stares at his hands sometimes and thinks about how they could make Gary suffer. “I know, baby,” Chris replies, taking a breath to calm himself and sort Sebastian out. “He’s a terrible person and your anger is valid. I think you should go to the gym, hit a punching bag, blow off steam. It’ll feel good.”

 

“I don’t have time for that,” Sebastian huffs.

 

“Okay,” Chris accepts it. “Just promise me you’re going to take care of yourself and be safe?”

 

“Yeah… I promise,” Sebastian says, grumbling it petulantly. But it makes Chris smile. “Alright, I have to get dressed. I’m going out with Julian tonight and I’ve been naked for 30 minutes.”

 

Chris erupts into a laugh, tipping his head back and eyes shutting with the size of his grin as he visualizes it. “Have you been stomping around the house naked, baby?” Chris asks with a joyful giggle seeping into his words.

 

“... Yes,” Sebastian answers, Chris can hear his blush.

 

Chris lets them both hold the silence before he reminds Sebastian, “I love you.” He clears his throat. “And don’t worry about Gary tonight. Everyone can see through it, Seb. Everyone knows he’s lying. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Sebastian replies, forcing himself to believe his words. “What are you doing?”

 

“Me? Well, I’m probably going to go to the gym,” he answers as he looks at his hands again.

 

–

 

Chris skips the wrap up after party and finds himself on a plane back home, anxiously biting on his thumb nail. Julian Edelman sends him updates, the last one a picture of him and Sebastian both giving the camera a thumbs up before he had to leave. It makes Chris smile but he still can’t quiet the frantic urge in his chest to be with him already, to make sure he isn’t alone.

 

Hours ago, Chris was watching the Patriots play against the Kansas City Chiefs. They had won but Sebastian took a nasty tackle. It was horrifying for Chris to watch.

 

He makes it to the hospital and hurries to the counter, a nurse eyeing him briefly and then again with recognition and shock. “Hi, I’m here to see my–,” he stops himself, conviction fizzling. The nurse tilts her head in question. It would be bad for this hospital to release information about them, they’d lose celebrity business if they disclosed things they shouldn’t. He swallows the lump in his throat and starts over, “I’m here to see my boyfriend, Sebastian Stan.”

 

Sebastian is lying in his bed, dressed in his hospital gown and hair splayed on his pillow as he looks out of his window. Chris knocks on the wall and watches his head turn in his direction, expression bored until he realizes who he’s looking at. “Chris!” he gasps, clearly a little drugged up.

 

Chris steps into the room and takes a seat beside him, slipping his hand into Seb’s and holding it tight. “How are you, baby?” Chris asks softly.

 

“I’m fine. I think I’m fine, right? I just got hit… By a fucking bus during the game,” Sebastian answers before giggling. “Nothing’s broken though. Just bruised.”

 

“Not broken, just bruised,” Chris repeats him, feeling the weight in his chest slowly start to vanish at those words. He kisses Sebastian’s knuckles and asks, “Will I be able to take you home tomorrow?”

 

“Yes, sir!” He answers cheerfully.

 

Chris eyes him with so much adoration, he blushes at himself just a little. “Alright. Well, get some sleep, Seb,” He says.

 

Sebastian pouts, “But I wanna look at you.”

 

Chris clicks his tongue and sighs. “Okay. Tell you what? You go to sleep, heal up, and when I take you home tomorrow, you can look at me all you want,” Chris negotiates. “I’ll even let you kiss me. Would you like that?”

 

Sebastian grins dopily and nods. He presses his head further into his pillows and shuts his eyes with a deep sigh. “I’m going to kiss you so many times,” he whispers to himself. Chris smiles and rests his head in Sebastian’s lap.

 

When he’s asleep, Chris’s stomach begins to get uneasy again. He observes Sebastian’s face, sees the fleeting movement of his eyes under his lids, the slackness of his mouth, his steady breaths leaving his lips. He feels safe and relaxed. But he wasn’t feeling like that the entire time. The first of Julian’s updates on Sebastian were tame enough. He was in uncomfortable pain. But then Sebastian started to get frantic, started crying, and Chris had to call and talk him down from it.

 

His guts churn at the invasive pondering of what bruised ribs triggered for Sebastian. He wishes recovery was easy, like a flip of a switch and Sebastian wouldn’t have to carry anymore pain. He loves him so much and there just isn’t enough for him to do that makes this road of recuperation smooth for Sebastian to travel. There isn’t enough.

 

“What are you crying about?” Sebastian murmurs, blinking his eyes awake and freeing his hand from Chris’s to wipe away the tear on his cheek. Chris looks into his eyes and finds them more focused, more lucid.

 

He sniffles and shakes his head, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

 

Sebastian doesn’t believe him, “Talking about feelings is manly, you know?” Chris snorts and rubs at his eye. He startles at Sebastian’s movements, wriggling in his bed.

 

It must hurt and Chris wants to yell at him to stop but the second he’s about to, Sebastian stills. He’s moved to one side of the bed and he pats the empty space beside him. “C’mere.” Chris doesn’t move. _“Come here.”_

 

Chris groans but carefully crawls into bed with him, fitting against his side and wrapping a gentle arm around his hip to avoid his bruising. He kisses Sebastian’s jaw and sighs into his neck. “Just wish it wasn’t hard for you,” he mumbles. “Wish there was more that I could do.”

 

Sebastian smiles affectionately at him before kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re doing enough, darling,” he says.

 

“It doesn’t feel like enough. Not for me.”

 

He takes a deep breath and presses his forehead into Chris’s. “I’m sorry. But… One day, I’ll get out of this and feel better than ever and I’ll have to thank you and you’ll realize that it was enough,” Sebastian assures him, reaching over to squeeze his bicep. “I love you and I feel lucky just to have you here, sticking with me through everything.”

 

“Look at you… Sweet talking me when you should be asleep,” Chris says with a throaty giggle.

 

“Gotta take care of you too, don’t I?” Sebastian replies. “Captain America can’t be the hero all the time.”

 

Chris blushes at that and kisses his lips before saying, “Shut up,” and quieter, “I love you.”

 

They kiss and in between them, Sebastian asks, “What–do–you–want–for–Christmas?” Chris cuts the kissing short to look at him curiously. “It’s coming up soon.”

 

“Yeah, in a month,” Chris points out but Sebastian’s question still stands. “I want… You to come home without bruised ribs,” Chris answers, remembering that Sebastian is scheduled to play on Christmas Eve. He doesn’t want any of it spent in the hospital. He wants it spent on the living room couch, watching Christmas movies Sebastian hasn’t gotten around to watching and Sebastian eyeing the plentiful amount of presents for him under the tree and drinking alcoholic eggnog while wearing Santa hats. He wants it to be good for him. “If you can do that for me, I–”

 

“Sebastian.”

 

They both jump at the voice. Chris doesn’t recognize it but Sebastian does. “Mama, what are you doing here?” He asks, surprised at her arrival.

 

“You called earlier.”

 

A wrinkle forms in between Sebastian’s eyebrows and he shakes his head. “I don’t remember calling you,” he admits.

 

“Well, you did,” she answers as she continues to look at the way they’re intimately placed in the tiny hospital bed. “And I came to see you like you asked. You didn’t sound okay.”

 

Sebastian shakes his head again. “No, I’m okay,” he assures her but she puts a hand on her hip and gives him a look.

 

“ _Vinzi castraveti gradinarului_ ,” she responds harshly, and Sebastian realizes that nothing he says will appease her and make her leave. They’re having this conversation now. He’s been avoiding it but this is his mother. He couldn’t have escaped it for long. Mothers are crafty like that.

 

He sighs and turns his attention to Chris, stroking his cheek and whispering, “Will you step out for a few minutes? Maybe visit the cafeteria or something?”

 

“Of course, Seb,” Chris replies easily, immediately regretting bringing Sebastian’s hand to his lips but knowing he can’t disguise it as anything else. So he quickly kisses his knuckles again and rolls out of the bed less gracefully than he had hoped. He gives Sebastian’s mother a strained smile before sidestepping around her and exiting the room, leaving them alone.

 

The second he’s a few steps down the hall, out of earshot, his mom’s steely appearance disappears and she’s already in tears as she goes over and kisses his face. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” she whimpers as she continues to kiss his cheeks. And Sebastian knows what the heartbrokenness in her voice pertains to.

 

He wraps her arms around her trembling shoulders, pulling her close as his own bottom lip begins to shake. “It’s okay, Ma,” he whispers, running a hand down the length of her hair and rubbing circles into her back. “It’s okay.”

 

She shakes her head and holds his face in her hands, her nails are sure to leave behind faint marks. “I will kill that man myself,” she hisses bitterly, expression going grim again. But another tear leaves her eyes and she rubs the pad of her thumb over the high point of Sebastian’s cheek, speaking softly as she says, “My baby boy.”

 

Sebastian lets her speak and cry, reassures her that the both of them were just doing the best they could, it was no one’s fault but Gary’s. She couldn’t blame herself for any of it, no matter how many times she tells Sebastian she was supposed to protect him and she should’ve recognized the signs. “I’m okay, Mama,” he says, wiping away her tears and giving her a smile.

 

She sighs and sits on the edge of his bed. “I only found out about this because I went to see Margarita and she told me you two had broken up,” She recalls. “Then she asked me how you were doing since the news came out. I didn’t know what news she was talking about. Then I found out. That… Fucking snake–”

 

He takes her hand and circles his thumb on the back of it. He wants her to have a break from the negativity because it takes too much out of a person. “It’s okay,” he repeats for the umpteenth time.

 

She nods and caresses his face, “You should’ve answered my calls.”

 

“I know. I was scared, Ma. You loved him.”

 

“I love _you_ more though, Sebastian,” she stresses. “Always.”

 

Sebastian kisses her knuckles and nods. “ _Te iubesc,_ ” he whispers.

 

She smiles, still teary-eyed. “But you’re okay now? Better? He takes good care of you?” She asks, squeezing Sebastian’s thigh.

 

“Chris?” Sebastian feels his skin start to heat up and he can’t fight off the grin that comes to his face. His mother notices and pinches his cheek, making him laugh. He’s a man in love, everyone can see it. “Yeah. He takes good care of me. He’s helped me a lot.”

 

Speak of the devil. Chris gently knocks to announce his presence again, smiling awkwardly with a little cup of ice cream in his hand. “They had cookies and creme. So I brought some,” he says. “Am I interrupting?”

 

“No, no, come in,” Sebastian’s mom says, beckoning him further inside the room.

 

Chris rounds the bed to kneel on the other side of it, handing the ice cream to Sebastian with a gentle smile. He turns his attention to his mother and winces. “Sorry. I would’ve brought you some but I wasn’t what you liked,” he apologizes. She waves it off. “I’m Chris,” he adds before extending his hand to her.

 

Sebastian watches, over the moon that they’re meeting and noticing the little signs in his mom that give away her impression of Chris. She likes him. Sebastian smiles around a spoonful of ice cream because he didn’t expect anything less.

 

A few hours later, Chris’s body begins to finally tire. He stretches out on the sleeper chair and yawns, and then Sebastian’s mother does the same. Chris smiles with hooded eyes. “It’s getting late. Do you want me to drop you off anywhere? Hotel? Our home?” He offers kindly.

 

“You two live together?” She asks.

 

Chris coughs. “Well, kind of. It’s… Sebastian’s house. But I’m there every time I get back from work. There was no ‘Moving In’ talk. It just happened,” he explains, tripping over his words nervously. He likes her a lot, can see where some of Sebastian’s mannerisms originate from, but he’s still unsure how she feels about the whole dating her son thing. He knows from other friends that sometimes parents are tolerant but don’t want to know the details. It’s not something he agrees with but he doesn’t want to upset her or anything.

 

“That’s nice,” she says, calming some of his overactive nerves. She looks at Sebastian, sleeping and not having a care in the world. “When I heard he broke up with Margarita and then… you know, I was scared. I thought he was alone all this time. I’m glad to know I was wrong. Thank you for being there for him and helping.”

 

Chris nods, unsure how to respond because there’s nothing else that he wants to do besides help and love Sebastian. It doesn’t need to be recognized. He’s happy to do it. “He’s great and he deserves everything,” he replies softly.

 

She smiles at him, “You and I are the same.”

 

–

 

Chris and Sebastian’s mom return to the hospital room to find Seb on his feet, wincing as he tries to pull on his shirt. “Hey, hey, hey,” Chris rattles off, hurrying over to help him with his shirt and tug it over his head, straightening it down his torso. “Good?” He asks, cupping his cheek.

 

“Good,” he answers with a smile. “Where’d you two go?”

 

“We went to eat lunch,” his mother says as she goes to the chair where her bag is set. “And we came back to take you home.”

 

It takes effort from all of them to help Sebastian get his pants on. “You guys are the worst at this,” Sebastian whines as they pull his jeans up his thighs.

 

“Your legs are muscular, Sebby,” Chris notes. “I don’t usually have a problem with that but right now… It’s tough.”

 

“And Chris isn’t as experienced putting on your pants as he is taking them off.”

 

“Mom!” Sebastian gasps, cheeks burning and mouth fallen open. Chris presses his face into the hospital bed as he laughs and hides his own bashfulness. Sebastian’s mom looks all too pleased with herself. “Oh my god.”

 

The first thing Sebastian does when they get home is pour himself a glass of water to swallow his pain pills. His mother floats around the living room, looking at every picture, and Chris is breaking out the wine. “Who’s this sweetheart?” Sebastian’s mother asks.

 

Chris peers around the corner and she holds up the picture of Chris and a baby asleep on a couch. He smiles and enters the living room with two glasses of wine. “Ah, don’t worry about it. We’re not going to spring a secret grandchild on you,” he jokes as he hands off a glass of red and then seats himself on the couch. He takes a drink of his as she giggles and then clarifies, “That’s my nephew, Miles. He was born a few months ago, around when Seb and I started dating.”

 

“I heard my name,” Sebastian says as he exits the kitchen after swallowing his pills. He looks over Chris and his mother stood together, two glasses of wine in their hands. He walks over to Chris and asks, “Where’s mine?”

 

Chris grins up at him and pinches his bottom, pouting lip and shakes his head. “No alcohol mixed with your meds, Seb,” Chris reminds him. Sebastian is close to begging but he knows nothing will sway Chris. He’s really set on taking care of Sebastian every second. It’s a blessing and curse. But there’s more blessings to be counted with the two people he loves most in the world being around so he sucks it up, curls into Chris’s side, and smiles when he kisses his forehead. He listens to his mother ask more questions that Chris happily answers as his lips get stained with red as the night goes on.

 

“He’s fallen asleep?” Sebastian’s mom asks, cocking her chin in his direction. Chris looks to his side and discovers Sebastian sleeping, pretty eyelids and eyelashes on display.

 

“I think the meds make him sleepy,” Chris guesses, his lips curling at the ends as he reaches for the strand of hair in Sebastian’s face with cautious fingers and tucks it in with the rest. He rips his attention away and looks at his mom, who’s now yawning with exhaustion herself. “Or… It’s just late.” She laughs and nods. “I can show you to the guest room if you’d like.”

 

He carefully removes himself from the couch, laying Sebastian down on his back as to not hurt his bruised side, then walks his mom down the hall. He opens the door for her and lets her into the room. “Thank you,” she says as she shrugs off her coat.

 

“You’re welcome. That’s the closet and that’s the bathroom, by the way,” he informs her with quick points in their direction. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

 

He gets ready to leave but she grabs his arm and pulls him into a hug. “I have to leave tomorrow morning. I have work to get back to,” she says before pulling away, taking one of Chris’s hands. “Thank you again.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Chris replies softly.

 

“It’s not easy taking care of him. I know. I used to get so tired of washing his sheets every day because he wet them during the night. Maybe I would’ve been better if I knew why. But I wasn’t so it makes sense he didn’t tell me. All I did was yell at him and say how much Gary meant to our family,” she sniffles, tears growing in her eyes. “But I know you make him feel safe, safe enough to tell you what he hadn’t told anyone else. So please, continue with that because… He finally doesn’t feel alone and I don’t want him to feel alone again.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Chris says before pulling her into another hug and rubbing circles in the center of her back. “I like taking care of him. He’s… He’s the love of my life.”

 

She nods against his chest. She looks up at him and holds his face in her hands, so many words in her eyes but she settles with, “He used to smoke when he was younger. I don’t know if he’s gone back to it again but don’t let him touch a cigarette.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

He quietly shuts the door behind himself and pads down the hall to the living room, where Sebastian is still dozing on the couch. He bends his knees until he can reach and slide his arms under Sebastian, doing his best to avoid waking him. He picks him up and walks the both of them down the hall.

 

Sebastian’s eyelashes flutter when he’s put on the bed and his sleepy eyes open. He focuses his hazy eyes on Chris, smiles, and then shuts his eyes again. A rush of tenderness fills Chris’s chest and he exhales shakily before a grin stretches his lips, leaning in to sniff Sebastian’s hair and ghost a kiss on his forehead. He wants nights like this for the rest of his life. “I want to marry you, Sebastian Stan,” he murmurs, nearly silent. “I’m _going_ to marry you.”

 

–

 

The morning of the game against the Miami Dolphins starts with Sebastian staring blankly at the wall with a grim color under his eyes and his head rested on Chris’s chest, right over his beating heart. Chris watches him quietly, patiently waiting for the cloudiness in his expression to dissipate but it continues to persist and it begins worries him. “Sebby?” He coos, gently raking his fingers through his hair to anchor him because he seems to be elsewhere. “Are you okay, baby? Talk to me.”

 

“I’m excited to have your family over,” he says blandly with his eyes still pinned on the wall. “It’s– Christmas was Gary’s favorite holiday and he always made time to see me every year. I don’t want to be the dark cloud in the room when everyone else is trying to have a good time but pretending like the holiday isn’t killing me… I did that with Margarita’s family and I didn’t want to get out of bed for days after it.”

 

“You don’t have to pretend,” Chris replies, rubbing his back. He understands what Sebastian is saying. There’s only so much false happiness he can exude before he physically and mentally exhausts himself. “You just… do what you can, Sebastian, and if you need a break from it, take one. I will cover for you. We’re a team, baby. And– and if you still want to stay in bed for days after tonight, I will be right here beside you.”

 

Sebastian believes the sentiment but he’s already too tired, too numb to emote in response to it. But Chris doesn’t need him to. He rolls Sebastian onto his back and reverses their positions. Sebastian feels his head quiet down, feels the tension being squeezed out of his body under the weight of Chris on top of him. Chris kisses along his collarbone until he reaches his shoulder. It makes a seed of shame bloom in Sebastian’s stomach because he wants Chris to fuck him. But it feels wrong, feels incongruous with his holiday blues.

 

Still. “Fuck me,” he shudders as his shame, humiliation heats up in his lower belly. He waits for Chris to be disgusted with him.

 

Chris gets to his hands and knees, leaning forward to kiss Sebastian sweetly. “You sure?” He asks, eyes lined with concern. Sebastian looks up at him and feels his lower lip quiver as his head begins to spin again, tears beginning to obscure his vision. “Sebastian,” he sighs and kisses his forehead.

 

“My h-head… It’s l-loud,” Sebastian babbles, attempting to convey what’s going on with him the best he can. “I can’t think. I need–” He hiccups and whines in frustration.

 

Chris knows the feeling of a loud mind. His anxiety is white noise in his brain, the volume increasing whenever its tormenting presence demands to be known. The only things that bring silence to his head are incredible scenes of nature, like the Grand Canyon or the Niagara Falls, because they require no thought or action, and Sebastian. He looks at Sebastian and feels strong enough to turn it down, feels in control of it. Right now, Sebastian needs him to clear his mind and be the one in control.

 

“Stop crying, Seb,” he says softly as he wipes away his tears. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

 

Sebastian takes a deep breath and nods before quickly remembering that Chris prefers verbal communication in bed and replying, “Okay.”

 

“Hands and knees. Now,” Chris orders as he stands on his knees, using them to walk his way over to the nightstand to pick out their bottle of lube and a rubber. Sebastian turns onto his stomach and then lifts himself up, exhaling the tightness in his throat and chest. He looks over at Chris getting a condom and hums, unpleased. “What?” Chris asks upon hearing it and looks over at him.

 

“Do we have to keep using them?” Sebastian eyes him hopefully. “We’d save a few dollars if… We stopped.”

 

Chris stares at him and then the condom. “Do you want to take a trip with me to the clinic to get tested? I’m sure we both don’t have STDs but it’s always a good step,” He says as he tosses the rubber behind Sebastian, against his wishes. He gets behind Sebastian’s hips and looks over the soft, milky white skin of his ass. “We do that and then we’ll do it bare. I need you to be responsible about it, and if you really want it, you should be fine doing that with me.”

 

Sebastian goes to reply with snark but it dies in his throat when Chris’s large hands settle against his ass and spread him apart. Chris kisses down the knobs of his spine to the bottom before pressing a light kiss right against his hole, Sebastian pressing his face into the pillow to hide his delicate gasp. More of them spill from his mouth as Chris begins to use tongue, dragging the length of it along the ring of muscle before reaching it with the tip and using it to shallowly breach his already loose hole from the night before. “Chris, Chris, fuck,” he pants, fisting the sheets and unable to stop the drool from seeping into his pillow.

 

Chris pulls away to take a breath, smirking to himself as he looks at the state of Sebastian. He’s only on his knees now, his upper body slumped against the mattress, and his skin is red wherever Chris’s beard rubbed against. And he’s wet, so wet.

 

Chris can’t admit to being completely altruistic because when he gets Sebastian likes this, he can’t help himself but need it. “On your back, Seb. I want to see you,” Chris says. And he rolls over, giving Chris another peek at what’s going on with the rest of him. His warm skin is dewy with sweat and he has his signature flush of red down to his collarbones. His pupils are dilated, his lip is trapped between his teeth, and his eyes are dark and hooded. He’s the most alluring thing Chris has ever laid eyes on and he’s the man lucky enough to experience it. “Hands above your head,” he adds.

 

He can see how it affects Sebastian in the way the diameter of his pupils grows just a little bit bigger and a bead of precome sprouts at the slit of his cock. He languidly raises and lays his hand above his head, right in the mess of his hair, and then just as slowly lays the other right on top without breaking eye contact. Chris picks up and considers the condom. Suddenly it seems so meaningless.

 

He tosses the condom aside and pounces on Sebastian, huskily whispering, “Merry Christmas.” He attacks his neck with his mouth, sucking bruise after bruise, before he wraps a hand around his cock and aligns the head with Sebastian’s entrance. “I love you,” he says before sinking the rest of himself inside of Sebastian.

 

The sensation is different, better than what Chris already thought was the best. Sebastian is the best, and now he’s feeling him without a barrier, closer than ever before. Sebastian lifts a hand and Chris pins it back down before capturing his lips, biting his lower one. “Hands up, baby,” he says against his mouth, reminding him. He pulls his hips back, feeling the delicious friction stimulate him even more with no latex between them. He feels it all and he knows that Sebastian does too.

 

Sebastian cries out when he thrusts back into him, another thin layer of sweat coming to the surface of his skin as electricity shoots around his insides. He resists the way Chris holds down his wrists but he isn’t strong enough to get very far. Chris keeps his hands above his head. “God, you have a game today,” he reminds Sebastian around labored breathing. “And you’re going to feel me with every step.”

 

He gives Sebastian more kisses along his chest, trailing back up to his bitten lips. He releases Sebastian’s wrists and buried his fingers in his hair, balling it up and yanking on it just enough to have Sebastian’s mouth fall open. Their tongues curl together and lick over each other’s lips.

 

Sebastian moans into his mouth as his fist wraps around his cock, pumping it in cadence with every snap of his hips. It doesn’t take long to build him up and he’s gasping as the heat that was there grows to consume his entire body in seconds. But Chris lets go of his cock and slows his movements, letting him teeter there on the edge of an orgasm. Chris is going to decide when he comes.

 

Chris doesn’t intend to torture him by delaying his orgasm, he just wants to make it really good for him when it finally comes. He sees the spaciness in Sebastian’s eyes and knows that his brain is beginning to “float” as he described it once when Chris had been afraid he pushed him too far. But even the most vanilla sex has the ability to do that to him.

 

He fucks into Sebastian, increasing his speed back to his normal pace without getting him to climax. “Fuck, you’re so warm around me, Sebastian,” Chris bites on his shoulder, digging his teeth in and leaving indentations behind. Chris takes hold of Sebastian’s cock again with the lightest touch of his fingers and he watches himself pull back the skin to show off the purpling head. He rubs the pad of his thumb over the slit and the precome.

 

He isn’t going to last much longer.

 

He presses his lips against Sebastian’s and fucks him erratically as his orgasm nears. Sebastian’s mouth falls open and Chris explores it with his tongue. He slams his hips, burying himself as far as he can go and stills inside of him.

 

He keeps his gaze fixed on Sebastian, breath hitching and body shaking with pleasure, and he watches Seb’s eyes roll back in his skull at the feeling of being filled with warm, thick come. It’s the last kick he needs before spilling onto his toned stomach like he’s being milked.

 

“ _Te voi iubi mereu_ ,” Sebastian murmurs in between little breaths. Chris kisses the corner of his mouth and combs his hair back with his hand. “Thank you.”

 

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

 

“ _Bun_ ,” he answers. His muscles are relaxed, so is his mind. More lucidity comes into his eyes in the seconds that pass and he adds, “Full.”

 

“Guess you can skip breakfast then,” Chris giggles before pulling out, finding his cock softer and soaked in his own come. “God,” he sighs, unable to stop himself from putting a finger to Sebastian’s well-loved hole and feeling it flutter underneath, his seed trickling out of it. “You’d be… So pregnant, Seb. So full of my child.”

 

Sebastian helplessly squawks, too spent to go again but wanting to. Chris’s fingers come into view, covered in translucent white, and slide in between his lips to swipe against his tongue, familiar saltiness bursting on his tastebuds. “So good,” he hums arounds as he swallows.

 

Chris helps wash Sebastian during the shower. If it’s a historically bad day for him, he always tries to counteract the negative feelings by pampering him. So he washes his hair, makes him laugh at how much foam is on top of his head, and kisses him even if he gets shampoo in his own eyes. When it’s all done, he wraps a towel around his shoulders and holds him close.

 

He’s within an arm's reach of Sebastian the entire time inside the locker room, doesn’t matter who he’s talking to. He keeps near him, reaches blindly for him just to touch his skin with his fingertips and feel his warmth under them. Soon, he has to give it up because it’s game time.

 

“I’ll see you out there,” Chris says with a smile as he picks up his helmet. Sebastian grins and pecks his lip but it isn’t enough for Chris, who cups the back of his head and pulls him into a deeper kiss. Chris feels so lucky to consider this team family so he isn’t afraid for himself, isn’t afraid for Sebastian.

 

The NFL can be a nasty institution towards gay players. Sebastian knows very well that football runs rife with homophobia, knows it first hand since he grew up with it. The only thing that helped him avoid it was dating Margarita. But now he has this team and he has Chris and they’re both loved too much for any bad comments to be hurled their way.

 

He’s sure some of his teammates don’t exactly appreciate their public displays of affection but it should be close to routine at this point. Chris breaks the kiss and carefully puts Sebastian’s helmet on for him. “Go get ‘em, kid,” he adds encouragingly.

 

When he gets off the field later, they’re winners. Sebastian tries to feel like a winner as much as he can with his purpling index and middle fingers, smile wobbling at the pain while it’s getting bandaged up. He sees Chris coming into the locker room, worry etched into his face. Sebastian is quick to minimize his distress, “It isn’t as bad as you think. They’re just sprained.”

 

Chris sighs and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, the expression not leaving his face. “Guess I won’t be getting my Christmas present then?” He asks.

 

Sebastian gives a quick thanks to the person who finishes wrapping his fingers and turns his attention back to Chris, who genuinely looks upset. “Hey, now. You said no more bruised _ribs_.”

 

Chris rolls his eyes and takes his face in his hands. “It’s still in the same boat, Sebastian,” Chris replies. Sebastian pouts at him apologetically and shrugs, receiving a soft kiss on the forehead. “I think I should start sneaking into the visitor locker rooms and warning them that if they touch my boy, I’ll go crazy. C’mon. Let me take you home.”

 

Lisa, Scott, and Chris’s sisters come through the door with presents. Sebastian is quick to flounder over to Carly, who has Miles tucked in her arm with an adorable Christmas cap on to keep his ears warm, while Chris hugs the rest of his family. Scott pokes Sebastian side and brightens as he greets him with a cheerful, “Hey!”

 

Sebastian opens his arms and beams as they both meet in the middle for a hug. “Hey, Scott. How you doin’, man?” he says, patting him firmly on the back with his uninjured hand. Scott freezes and winds back to grab one of his wrists, observing the bandage wrapped around two of his digits.

 

“ _Sebastian_ ,” he says, scandalized. “What the hell do you and Chris get up to?”

 

Hours pass and wine glasses litter the coffee table. Sebastian is leaning back against Chris’s chest, where they’re both sat on the couch and laughing at a story Scott animatedly tells. Carly, Shanna, and Lisa are all sat on the floor, watching Miles wriggle around. He’s almost crawling.

 

Chris presses a tiny kiss to Sebastian’s temple and mumbles, “You enjoying yourself, Sebby?” Sebastian turns his head to look at him, smiling as he nods. Chris wraps an arm around him, hand settling on his tummy, and says, “Good, that’s good.”

 

He wiggles underneath Sebastian. “What the–,” Sebastian starts but then learns it’s completely innocent when he pulls out his phone, camera ready.

 

“I’m sending these to your mom,” Chris says. Sebastian bares his teeth for the first few pictures before Chris nibbles along his jaw and makes him laugh.

 

“Gay!” Scott calls out, receiving a whack on his bicep from Lisa. Sebastian bubbles with more laughter, squeezing the hand Chris has on his stomach, as Scott and his mom bicker over the relevancy of his comment. Sebastian adores this entire family. Chris can’t wait for him to be a part of it. Officially, that is. He’s ready to get down on one knee now.

 

“God, I need to pee,” Sebastian grumbles to himself before standing from Chris’s lap and walking around the Evans family sat on his living room floor. Chris follows him with his eyes before turning his attention to his family, who is watching him with huge smirks on their faces. He rolls his eyes playfully and stands up, taking his glass with him to the kitchen where more wine awaits.

 

**@ChrisEvans: Happy holidays! I hope all of you are with your loved ones.**

 

As if on cue, Sebastian comes out of the hallway, making a beeline to Chris and wrapping his arms around his neck. He kisses Chris, his tongue just the right thickness in his mouth and slow and thorough, Chris feels his blood rushing. He breaks the kiss and giggles against Sebastian’s lips before whispering, “I’m going to have to kick out my entire family if you continue.” Sebastian smiles before sucking a faint mark on Chris’s neck before spinning on his heels and making his way back to the living room.

 

When his family does start making their way out the door, lots of hugs are exchanged. Lisa holds Sebastian tightly, breathing him in, and when she pulls back, Sebastian can see the glassiness in her eyes. “You make him so happy, you know?” She says, squeezing his biceps. “And I’m so glad you came into our lives, Sebastian. I think… God sent us an angel, I really do. You both made the right choice.”

 

Sebastian wants to tell her he’s never found a place where he felt like he totally and utterly belonged until he met Chris and the rest of them. But it’s all caught in the tightness of his throat and he resorts to hugging her again, hoping it says enough. Chris tells him all the time that he makes him happy, and Sebastian feels the same. But there’s something different, purer when it’s from the mother of the man you love. The person who created him and loved him and made him into the amazing man he is now trusts Sebastian to treat his heart tenderly and positively affect the continuous growth of himself.

 

“Drive safe,” Sebastian calls after them as they begin the short walk to their car in the driveway. Once they’re all in and pull out, Sebastian shuts the door and presses his back against it. Chris is watching him, assessing him, and then holding up a thumb, twisting his wrist in question. Sebastian grins at him and holds up two thumbs in response.

 

Chris grabs two fistfuls of his sweater and kisses him. “Let’s get to bed, kid,” he mumbles, breath tickling Sebastian’s lips. Sebastian leads the way, Chris turns off the Christmas music and then follows.

 

**@imsebastianstan: But if you really hold me tight, all the way home I’ll be warm…**

 

–

 

Sebastian gets out of bed on Christmas morning before Chris does.

 

–

 

The months that follow are a whirlwind of bright lights, dancing, lots of alcohol, and lovemaking that Sebastian never tires of. The night and morning after winning another Super Bowl was nonstop praise from Chris, being called his winner and feeling like it with every orgasm Chris drew out of him. He spoils Chris on his birthday with some new, risqué things that almost broke their coffee table. Sebastian’s life feels like it’s at a constant high. But the middle of June, it all comes to a halt.

 

Chris reminds him that he doesn’t have to do it, he can back out if he needs to. But Sebastian is walking into court, dressed in a suit with Chris matching beside him. They take a seat in the pews furthest to the back and Sebastian looks around the courtroom, paranoid of being clocked and word spreading about the Patriots’ quarterback being one of Thompson’s victims. He’s already heard some of the chatter, the what if’s spreading around teams, and the way some of his own teammates eye him with a hint of uncertainty under their primary emotion. He doesn’t want any of that attached to his name. He only wants to be known for his successes and that’s it. This has followed him long enough. “God, my hands are sweaty,” he grumbles, wiping them on his lap.

 

The judge comes in, everyone in the courtroom rising to their feet. This is when he spots the back of Gary’s figure in an olive green suit. He’s terrified for a moment that he’ll turn around and see him. The judge gives them permission to be seated, and then he’s hidden again.

 

Chris rests a hand on Sebastian’s knee as the jury enters the room and a man, one of the prosecutors named Mr. Carney, stands and begins to address the court.  “Okay?” Chris asks in a whisper, receiving a tiny nod from Sebastian.

 

Time feels like it drags on and on until Mr. Carney says, “Your honor, the commonwealth would call Sebastian Stan.”

 

Chris squeezes his bicep and gives him a smile of encouragement. Sebastian can only return him a smile with too much residue of a grimace as he gets to his feet and makes his way to the stand. Sebastian feels his hands shake and go cold with sweat as eyes from every direction burn holes into each part of his body, putting only his insides on display.

 

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

 

“I do,” Sebastian answers, putting his hand down and then taking his seat in the witness box. He does his best to keep his eyes trained on Chris, who has moved further up the pews and is giving Sebastian another smile.

 

Mr. Carney starts his examination with, “Could you please say your full name and spell your last name, sir?”

 

“Sebastian Stan. S-T-A-N.”

 

“Mr. Stan, how old are you?”

 

“I’m 25,” he says before clearing his throat and adjusting himself in his seat. He knows Gary’s eyes are on him and he wills himself with all the strength in his body to not look in his direction. He looks at Chris or Mr. Carney instead.

 

“Mr. Stan–”

 

“Sebastian, please,” he says. It makes Chris chuckle gently to himself because he knows that Seb just hates the way Mr. Stan sounds, had once gave a mini rant to him about it while tipsy.

 

“Sorry. Sebastian, I’m going to ask you about some events back when you were 13, 14 years old.”

 

He’s before a courtroom of people, soon to expose all the wounds he’s hidden to strangers, some of them using his testimony to determine whether he’s actually a victim or not. He’s only relived the memories with Chris, and he’s still in disbelief that he managed to do that. But he did.

 

He keeps his eyes on Chris and says, “Okay.”

 

They start from the very beginning. Sebastian tells him that he came to the States when he was 12, lived with his mom and stepfather, he met the defendant through a youth center, and he learned how to play football from him. He has to describe some of the instances of Gary compromising his innocence, setting the scene, using clinical words, and clarifying some of the details he wishes he didn’t have to think about or admit to an audience of people. He feels so vulnerable, feels like he can hear all the judgements the jury is keeping to themselves. Though, some of them are too disgusting to credit anyone but himself.

 

“Sebastian, you have told us about your contact with the defendant over the course of months and years. Did it, in fact, involve him placing his penis in your mouth dozens of time, more than 40 times?” Mr. Carney asks, beginning to wrap up his examination.

 

He hesitates before admitting again, “Yes.”

 

“And putting his erect penis into you?”

 

“Yes.” He feels his skin flare up with heat again, shame filling his throat.

 

Mr. Carney can see his internal struggle and eyes him sympathetically before softly adding, “Okay. Any reason you’d say that other than the fact that it’s true?”

 

Sebastian shakes his head and says, “No.”

 

Mr. Carney gives him a nod and turns his attention to the judge. “I have nothing further, Your Honor,” he ends and steps back to his table, taking a seat, just as the attorney representing Gary is called up.

 

“Sebastian, I’m Mr. Kaufman. I represent Mr. Thompson and I’m going to ask you some questions. Please let me know if you don’t understand the question,” He starts before asking him about the youth center that Sebastian entered. It doesn’t seem relevant until he asks, “What was the basis for you getting into that program?” and Sebastian knows what card he’s playing.

 

“My mom wanted me to go,” Sebastian replies, trying to put out any hints of anger on his face. But his tone is giving himself away in all its curtness. “We were straight from Romania and poor. I was a boy in a neighborhood that got dangerous at times. She was looking out for me.”

 

“Okay. Did you ever get involved in that danger?”

 

His jaw sets. “No.”

 

“Did you ever have difficulties in school?”

 

Sebastian pauses and takes a deep breath. “I have… I have been expelled. Only once,” he answers defeatedly, like this one thing, one mistake will pull the rug out from underneath everyone.

 

Mr. Kaufman lets that detail sink in with the jurors before speaking, “Can you explain why?”

 

“I was bullied a lot. I had an accent and was different. One day, I just snapped.”

 

“Now do you recall telling one of the counselors at the youth center that you weren’t the greatest kid in the world?”

 

“Yes,” he gripes.

 

“What did you mean by that?”

 

Sebastian admits that he wasn’t an angel. Yes, he did bad things. Yes, he lied. But no, he didn’t lie more than any other kid would and he would deny the title of Liar. He wasn’t a liar.

 

“Did you ever tell anyone about this alleged abuse?”

 

“No, I didn’t,” Sebastian answers. “I didn’t want to lose… what I had. I had good things. I looked at Gary like he was my father because I never had anyone else. I didn’t want to lose the nice things I’m getting or the chance to go to university without putting me and my mom in debt. And I didn’t want to lose someone actually paying attention to me.”

 

“In other words, it felt good to have a relationship with Gary Thompson?”

 

“Sometimes. But it wasn’t worth the cost of myself,” he says, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes. “And I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone with this. At the time.”

 

He looks over at Chris, who’s pouting and eyeing him with tender care. “Yes. You mentioned that you were afraid because your mother loved Mr. Thompson and you didn’t trust your stepfather. Is it fair to say that you had problems with your stepfather?”

 

Sebastian nods and says, “Yes.”

 

“Any particular reason why?”

 

Sebastian fixes his stare on Mr. Kaufman and flat out says it, “I’m gay.” He takes a breath. “And he hinted very heavily… that he didn’t want me to be. That’s my problem with him.”

 

Chris looks around the courtroom as a silence falls over it, so quiet he thinks he could hear the beat of Sebastian’s heart from his seat. Everyone is a little shocked, he is too.

 

“Would you say Gary helped you become that way? And for that reason, you resent him?” Mr. Kaufman breaks the silence.

 

Sebastian mouth falls open at the mere stupidity of the question. “What the– No. No, he didn’t help me become this way. It doesn’t work like that, I was gay before he came into my life. And I _resent_ him for taking advantage of the love I had for him. I resent him for betraying me and taking away my childhood. I resent him for making me hate myself.”

 

“Okay,” Mr. Kaufman says. “So why are you telling us now?”

 

He puffs in frustration. “It was ruining my relationships and me. Even when I moved away from California, moved away from Gary, it still felt like he was there and he sent me letters like he was trying to remind me that he would always be there. I was being tortured. I wouldn’t even be doing this right now unless– I thought I was alone and I just wanted it to all go away. But I found out I wasn’t alone and it doesn’t just go away. He can go away though. He can go away and stay away from any other kids he could ruin. I’m responsible for them. If I had said something, there might not have been other boys. So I’m responsible. He has to go away. I wanted to make sure of that. That’s why I’m telling you now,” he voices, pressing his index finger into the wood in front of him for emphasis.

 

Mr. Kaufman nods and continues interrogating him, making him retell events he told Mr. Carney and looking for any holes in his stories. With a quick recess in between and more questions, it feels like an eternity before he says, “That’s all I have. Thank you, Your Honor.”

 

And then they go into the redirect examination, which thankfully Mr. Carney keeps concise. There’s also no more questions from the defendant representatives either. The judge announces, “We are going to take a recess for the day. We’ll start again at 9:00 tomorrow morning,” before she goes into the procedure the jurors should follow once more. “We’ll remain seated while the jury is taken out.”

 

Chris wraps his arms around him the second he’s in reach and kisses his forehead. “You did great up there, Seb,” Chris murmurs as he squeezes him, people walking around them and exiting the courtroom. “Almost 3 hours up there and you kept with it. You’re amazing, you know that?”

 

Sebastian looks up at him and smiles. “Yeah. But I’m really tired now,” he replies. Chris does notices the faint wrinkles of exhaustion by his eyes and he nods.

 

“Okay, let’s go home then.”

 

His mom practically yanks his arm off with how fast she pulls him into an embrace, kissing his face until he’s groaning. Chris giggles and pinches Sebastian’s side. “How was court?” she asks as she’s pulling away.

 

“Good,” Sebastian answers as he walks into the living room with heavy legs. “But I want to take a nap.”

 

Chris shuts the front door behind him and watches Sebastian pull off his shoes before throwing himself on the couch, curling himself into a ball. It’s so inviting, Chris just wants to wrap himself around him, but his mom is wide awake and likely wants to know more. “He was on the stand for 3 hours. He’s tired,” he explains to Seb’s mom before hugging her himself. “How have you been?”

 

Sebastian wakes up from the shaking of his shoulder and rolls onto his back to look up at Chris. “Hey,” he says, barely coherent under his sleepy yawn.

 

“Your mom made dinner. Are you hungry?” He asks, nosing through the mess of Sebastian’s hair and kissing his brow bone. “She made cabbage rolls.”

 

Sebastian hums and nods. “Lift me,” he orders, reaching his arms around Chris’s neck.

 

“Of course, you princess,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes and then slides his arms underneath Sebastian to pick him off the couch. “You’re a punk.”

 

–

 

They stay in California as the trial goes on for 8 more days. The jury deliberates for 21 hours before reaching their verdict, and Sebastian and Chris return that day, when people are outside the courthouse yelling their thoughts on Gary and his innocence. Chris knows that the only thing Gary Thompson can be is guilty. But he still reassures Sebastian, “Whatever happens, you’re safe with me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Sebastian says, resting his head on his shoulders as they wait to begin session. Chris turns over his hand, presenting his palm to Sebastian, who smiles and places his hand on top of it. Chris fills the spaces between his fingers with his own and holds tight. Gary is brought in, wearing bright orange and chained like the criminal he is. His grasp on Chris tightens when he turns and makes direct eye contact with Sebastian without having to search for him. His sad eyes linger on him but Sebastian doesn’t have the capacity to feel for him anymore. “I want to get this over with.”

 

It’s all a buzz in Sebastian’s brain, meaningless exchanges between people in the court. His mind only clears and focuses when he sees the foreman of the jury stand, ready to read the verdict. Chris straightens out his spine before realizing it’s more appropriate to stand. So he stands and he gently tugs at his hold on Sebastian, getting him to his feet beside him. The juror takes a deep breath and starts, “This 24th day of June, 2012, we the jurors empaneled in this case find the defendant as to: Count 1, involuntary deviate sexual intercourse, guilty.”

 

Sebastian lets go of Chris to curl his fingers around the back of the next row’s pew, digging his nails into the wood and bowing his head as he’s overtaken with overwhelming relief. He shakes, harder and harder with each use of Guilty as the foreman continues going through all his counts. Laying a palm over his eyes as tears begin to spring forward, he stands up straight and takes a step forward into Chris’s arms.

 

It’s a few minutes before they get through all 52 counts, 48 of them guilty, Gary’s bail is revoked, and court is adjourned.

 

Chris holds onto Sebastian as he continues sobbing into his chest as people in the court start to file out of the room. “You did it, Seb,” Chris whispers as he rocks him side to side, the way he tends to. He had to watch Sebastian go through this process, having to catch up, and he saw the little things he couldn’t hide that pointed to how much it took out of him. But it’s over now.

 

No one’s expecting an NFL player so no one inside of the buzzing lobby pays them any attention as they sneak out and go straight to their car, windows tinted almost opaque black. Chris squeezes Sebastian’s thigh as he pulls out his phone with shaking hands and calls his therapist. It’s been an incredibly eventful day, and Sebastian needs to get it all out.

 

When they get to Chris’s house later, they go for a swim. Sometimes Sebastian stops swimming and just stares at the ripples in the water, completely blank, and Chris has to float over to him and kiss his skin to bring him back. “What’s goin’ on, Sebby?” He asks, brushing his wet hair from his face.

 

“I think… I’m going to quit football. Not now, but one day,” Sebastian murmurs. “Soon, maybe.”

 

“Oh, goodie. I’m losing my favorite quarterback. _Again_ ,” he says with feigned heartbreak.

 

A smile stretches over Sebastian’s mouth and he hits Chris’s arm, splashing water around. “Support me, dickhead,” he tries to sound peeved but he’s still grinning. Chris laughs and kisses his lips.

 

“Of course, of course I support you,” Chris reassures him tenderly. “If you told me you wanted to blow up the moon tomorrow, I’d be a little hesitant at first but honey, I’ll youtube how to make explosives for you. I support you.”

 

Sebastian giggles into his neck and nods. “I love you,” he says.

 

“I love you too… So much,” Chris sighs before spinning the both of them around. “I’m going to love you no matter what life throws at us, no matter what _you_ throw at me, because you’re so worth it. You’re everything, Sebastian.”

 

–

 

It’s after a game in September that Sebastian learns of the sentence. 65 years, which is a death sentence given Gary’s age.

 

He drinks that night and Chris has to pry the bottle from his hands and hold him as the waves of nausea make his body shake.

 

The problem is there is no going back to the way he used to be. Having been abused so young, there wasn’t anything to go back to. It was a hard pill to swallow when his therapist told him that. Deep down, he knew, he always knew there was no way to give up all of this pain. But he wishes it were easy like that. That Gary could just be locked up and he’d be fine, like it never even happened. But it did happen and he won’t ever forget it.

 

Chris tucks him in bed, kisses his forehead, and gets into bed beside him. And then he gets out of bed when Sebastian jumps out and sprints to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach, keeps his hair from hanging dangerously close to the contaminated water, and rubs his back. “It’s okay, Seb,” he whispers to soothe him. “It’s okay, baby.”

 

Sebastian flushes the toilet and throws himself onto his bottom, pressing his back against the wall and staring at Chris with tired, red eyes. Chris gives him a smile and he frowns in return. “Do you think… you can feel that way forever?” Sebastian asks, the words feeling familiar and the memory takes a moment to come to the front of his brain. He’s scared that he’s trying to say goodbye to the greatest thing in his life but he can’t stop himself. “Do you think you can be optimistic indefinitely?”

 

“What do you mean?” Chris asks in response, removing himself from the edge of the tub and kneeling in front of Sebastian. The concern is etched on his face. He cares so much with so much of himself and never asks for a thing in return, Sebastian is infuriated by it.

 

“I’m a mess!” He yells, too distressed to be embarrassed of the immediate tears and the acidic stench of his breath. “And you’re going to get tired of taking care of me! And you’re going to leave!”

 

“Sebastian, no,” Chris says firmly, reaching for his hand but Sebastian recoils.

 

“Stop! Admit it! And just leave!”

 

“I’m not fucking leaving!” Chris screams at him, furious and loud enough that the angry fire inside of Sebastian is blown out like a candle. Chris notices and takes it down a few notches, chest still heaving. “I’m not leaving you, Sebastian. Stop telling yourself that. Please.”

 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Sebastian whimpers.

 

“I could never hate you. You’re my best friend, Seb,” Chris says softly. Sebastian looks up at him, thick tears undulating in his eyes, and there’s something in them that Chris can’t entirely read. He turns and sits down beside Sebastian, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into his lap. “There’s more to this. Tell me.”

 

Sebastian hiccups before he confesses, “I saw the script you threw away, and I hear the phone calls you have with y-your agent. And I know you’re turning down mov-movies because of me. I just don’t want you to h-hate me when y-you see how many times I’ve held you back.”

 

Chris mentally smacks himself for letting Sebastian get this far in thinking this. “Baby, please. Leave me the responsibility of making my own choices, okay?” He kisses Sebastian’s forehead and sighs guiltily. “I did turn those movies down but they’re just movies, Seb. They could help me move up the popularity ladder, win a prestigious award but I don’t care. That’s not what I want for my future. You are my future and I’d choose you over every single movie that comes my way if I felt like I had to. Right now, I want to be with you and make sure that you’re safe and warm and okay.”

 

“Please… don’t turn down any movies you want to do because of me,” Sebastian pleads gently.

 

“Okay, I won’t once I feel like this ordeal has passed us. But I need you to never convince yourself that I’m going to leave or that I’m going to ever hate you because I’m not,” Chris replies, taking Sebastian’s hand. “I want you for the rest of my life. Believe that.”

 

He kisses the fourth knuckle on Sebastian’s left hand like a promise.

 

–

 

It takes a few years.

 

Sebastian is 29, going on 30,when he has the strength to get in front of a camera and tell the world that yes, he is a victim but more importantly he is a survivor and he isn’t afraid anymore. And he’s ready to help the rest of the world, the other people just like him. It’s the product of many nights staying up with Chris, thinking that he couldn’t just close this chapter in his life without doing more to help the world. He had to do more, and so Chris helped him figure out what ‘more’ would entail.

 

“I think it’s important that there is a resource out there for boys who are in the situation I was in or the grown up men like me who finally feel ready to speak out. So I and a few other people created a resource,” Sebastian chuckles nervously at the camera, wringing his fingers luckily offscreen. “It’s called _Project 1 in 6_.”

 

Everyone at the set congratulates him and tells him that this project is going to do some good. It’s all he hopes for even if he’s becoming more and more anxious as the tangibility of this project grows. He knows that the launch is weeks away but how does one prepare to come out to the entire world with something like this? He’ll never know. But he guesses there isn’t a right or wrong way.

 

He adjusts his suit before getting into his car and startles at the vibration of his phone once he’s seated. It’s not without struggle that he takes his phone out of his pants. He grins and answers it, “Hey!”

 

“Finish filming?” Chris asks.

 

“Oh, yeah. How about you? How’s the press junket?” Sebastian replies as he looks around the parking lot.

 

“Still got another week of this international mess,” Chris says, tone just a little irritated. The hours and questions become tiring. It’s either mild annoyance or absolute delirium after all the coffee. That’s the case for Chris, at least. “Miss you. Wish I was there with you. Only thing getting me through this is knowing it’s my last movie until fucking… Next year. God, all that time I’m going to spend with you.”

 

“Especially since this was my last season,” Sebastian reminds him. Yeah, Sebastian’s football career finally gave up the ghost. It went out with a fourth Super Bowl win, which he figures is the best way to go out. “You’re going to get so tired of me.”

 

“Never. Could never get tired of that tight little– _Tom_. Heeey.” Sebastian hears Chris continue to talk but it’s clear that it isn’t to him. But he’s back soon, cheerful and audible, “Alright! Sorry. New kid. He’s great, have I told you about him?”

 

“Yeah, I think so. But hey, I got to head home soon. I’ll call you later if you’re not busy.”

 

Sebastian can just visualize the way Chris is pouting before he sends him off with, “Alright. I love you.”

 

“I love you too. I wouldn’t–,” he bites his lip. He finishes the thought, “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

 

When Sebastian makes it home, he strips out of his suit, folding it neatly because he still hasn’t lost his perception of value even with the money he’s earned, and he lies in bed. Chris’s side still smells like his warm scent. He tries to sleep as close to it as he can without potentially masking it or dulling it with his own.

 

He used to be the worst at dealing with Chris working far away from him but he’s finally stopped crying on the nights he feels loneliest. He still misses him a lot when they’re apart though. He doesn’t think that’ll ever change as the years come.

 

His phone vibrates with a Twitter notification.

 

**@ChrisEvans: Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd. Probably going to be my favorite song until I die.**

 

And he knows that’s Chris’s way of telling the world that he misses him too.

 

–

 

Sebastian’s eyes shoot open at the first sounds of a car outside the house and he bolts out of bed, heading straight for the front door where Chris is coming in with his bags.

 

He’s overwhelmed by Sebastian’s weight but he’s so happy to be crammed against the door with their bodies slotted together. He’s touched-starved from the person that matters most to him. He drops the handles of his bags and wraps his arms tightly around Sebastian, burying his nose in the crook of his neck and grounding himself in his morning scent. “Ugh. Missed you,” Chris groans under his jaw, muffled. “Going to show you just how much.”

 

And Sebastian squeals as Chris lifts him up and returns the both of them back to the bedroom.

 

Sebastian lies with his upper body rested on Chris, sated mentally and physically, even emotionally. He kisses the warm skin over Chris’s beating heart and straddles his hips to get them face to face. “Is it bad that I feel gross that we’re using our coming out as publicity for your movie and my project?” Sebastian asks.

 

“That’s pretty normal,” Chris answers meekly as he brushes the hair back from Sebastian’s face. “But hey, the word will spread about what you’re doing and even more people will know there’s a place to get help. It’s for a good reason.”

 

“Yeah but…,” Sebastian shrugs and smiles.

 

“A good thing to remember is that we aren’t just coming out for the purpose of publicity but because the world is closer to being ready and we’re ready,” Chris coos as he sits up and kisses Sebastian tenderly. “I’m ready to show off my fiancé.”

 

“You’re fian–” he pulls away and opens his eyes to find Chris holding a black velvet box in between the both of them, smiling earnestly up at Sebastian.

 

“I love you and I hope that you’re ready for this as well,” Chris says with glittering, loving eyes. “If you’re not, that’s okay too. I can wait for you forever.”

 

“I am,” Sebastian replies, nodding frantically and capturing Chris’s mouth with his own, quieting any talk of him not being ready with kisses of saccharine. “I fucking am. I’m ready too. Oh my god. I want to marry you. I want to marry you so fucking much.”

 

–

 

Sebastian rips open the box that was just delivered to his doorstep and pulls out the plastic wrapped magazine. He’s on the cover with rainbows smeared under his eyes the way he occasionally applied eye black during football and the quotation, “He’s the love of my life,” is printed in one corner and one about _Project 1 in 6_ is in the other.

 

There is no holding back with his magazine cover. He holds the magazine to his chest and shudders. He’s officially out.

 

To add to the celebration, his phone vibrates with Chris’s form of coming out too. Chris had opted for a personal video that he prerecorded and would post to Twitter once Sebastian’s magazine came out. And that’s now.

 

In the video, Chris is sat on the floor in the very same living room Sebastian is currently standing in. Sebastian notice the tiny mannerisms that give away some of Chris’s nerves and the way his smile is overly large to compensate. Chris takes a deep breath and waves, “Hey, guys. So I don’t usually make announcement videos like this but I decided that this one was important and I wanted you all to know. Anyway. I–am–getting–married.” He nods and shows off the band on his finger. He then puts his hands up in surrender. “I don’t mean to break any hearts or anything but I met someone 5 years ago and he took my breath away.”

 

Chris laughs that dorky laugh he has whenever he finds himself saying anything cheesier than usual and it makes Sebastian grin so wide it hurts. He wishes Chris was home so he could tease him about it.

 

“You might be freaking out that I said ‘he’ and I get it. But,” he shrugs, “it’s 2016, and we never really see these things coming, do we? I never knew I was going to fall in love with him. It just kind of happened. But I know he makes me happy. I’ve never been happier. I’ve never felt so in place with someone else. I wake up every morning beside the man I love and I’m grateful and I’m thrilled and I feel like I belong next to him. And that’s all that matters to me. It’s all that matters to Sebastian too. Plus I asked for 4 Super Bowl wins, and he delivered. Oh. Yeah. I fell in love with the replacement of my favorite quarterback. Funny how that works out, huh?”

 

–

 

“And have you seen the movie?”

 

Sebastian nods and smiles before answering, “Yeah! It’s a great movie that I’d recommend to anyone. But I don’t know, I’m probably biased.”

 

“Would it be safe to assume that your favorite superhero is Captain America?” Jimmy Fallon asks cheekily.

 

Sebastian considers the question before simpering and shaking his head with a, “No,” surprising Fallon and the audience.

 

“Oh, no. Who is it? Iron Man? Hopefully we won’t be hurting the engagement.”

 

Sebastian laughs and shaking his head again, “No. I’m definitely Team Cap but…” Delight is written on his face as he finishes, “Chris Evans is my superhero.”


End file.
